


Only Wanna Dance With You

by QuietREBelGirlWithVoDKa



Series: Beauty and the Beast [1]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Awkward Flirting, BFF John Cena, Explicit Sexual Content, Kayfabe Compliant, Lots of pairings, M/M, Other warnings coming with later chapters, Real Names, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 15:43:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 57,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13298049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuietREBelGirlWithVoDKa/pseuds/QuietREBelGirlWithVoDKa
Summary: "Who the fuck is Colby?" Randy Orton is entirely too interested once he finds out Seth's real name. Seth's not sure if he should be intrigued, or terrified. First story in the Beauty and the Beast 'verse. Story beings mid-March 2013.  Originally posted 6/3/2014.





	1. Waste My Time

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own shit.
> 
> Author's Note: So, this happened. Haha. Really, though, my Randy/Seth fascination started when I was plotting out and writing another series entirely, but suddenly took over my whole set of muses, and now, I finally have enough of this written to feel confident sharing it. This one's gonna be a bit of a monster, so I'm breaking it down into multiple stories. This right here is just part one. To be honest, when I first started plotting this all out, I really liked it. Like, I really REALLY liked it. The longer I work on it, though, and the more I see it come to life before me and work on the other parts as well, the more I've fallen in love with it. Find Your Love will always be my first child, but this right here is my baby. The beginning may not be my favorite of everything I've worked it, but I'm definitely still very much enamored with it. There's a lot to the telling of this story, and I have a lot of it finished, so there's a hell of a lot more to come. Either way, I really hope that everyone else loves it as much as I do. :)
> 
> Warnings: Language.

_~It's all about hanging out_   
_'Cause you know how to waste my time~_

 

It's a Tuesday when Randy Orton finds out that Seth Rollins is actually Colby Lopez. He's stretching in the hallway near one of the locker rooms, getting ready for tonight's Smackdown taping, when Daniel Bryan walks by, Seth at his side. That's when Randy hears it, for probably the fifteenth time in the last week, Daniel saying the name, "Colby", and Randy can't even help it, leaping to his feet and trailing quickly behind them.

"Hey, wait!" Randy calls, grabbing at Daniel's shoulder to get his attention. Both of them turn around at the same time, shooting Randy nearly matching curious looks, which the Viper can kind of understand. It's not like he really talks to either of them that often. Or at all. Still, his curiosity has already more than gotten the better of him with this, so he figures he may as well ask, "Who the fuck is Colby? I swear, I've heard you say that name about a hundred times, and I'm completely clueless here."

Daniel and Seth exchange amused glances before Seth's raising a hand slowly.

"That'd be me. Colby Lopez? That's my real name, since you apparently missed it." Seth tells the older.

Randy's brow furrows, eyes scanning over Seth slowly, all the way down and back up again. Kid sure doesn't  _look_  like a Colby, he thinks. Aloud, he says, " _You're_  Colby? Well, that's...weird."

It's Colby's turn to look confused, replying slowly, "Uhm. Thanks?"

Instantly, Randy feels like a dick, realizing how it must have sounded. He stammers for a moment, trying to revise his original wording, but Seth- er,  _Colby_ , he reminds himself- just laughs.

"It's okay. I think Randy's a weird name, too." the younger interrupts him with a smile, patting him on the shoulder. "I'll see you around, okay?"

Then, Colby and Daniel are turning around, continuing along the path they were on to begin with, leaving Randy to his stretching again. Unfortunately, he can't bring himself to do anything but watch them leave, running the conversation over again in his head and trying to figure out what about it, exactly, left this strange knot in his stomach. Finally, he decides that it must have something to do with his initial reaction, and the way it affected the younger. That had to be it, right? Right, he just feels bad for hurting the kid's feelings. That's  _gotta_  be it, he thinks. He'll just have to apologize the next time he sees Colby, set things straight, and then everything will be back to normal. At least, he hopes. The way his stomach turns at the thought of running into the younger, however, he's not so sure.

 

**III**

 

Despite his best efforts (that he'd never admit to exerting), Randy can't seem to catch Colby anywhere. The kid's harder to find than fucking Waldo, which kind of makes sense to Randy when the Viper considers who his best friends are. The Shield haven't exactly stayed on the good side of most of the locker room, after all, so Randy starts to look elsewhere. He manages a few near-misses, but Colby always seems to either be too far away for him to catch in time, or too busy for him to want to interrupt. After three weeks, though, Randy feels himself beginning to lose his cool, desperate to get past this feeling that washes over him every time he so much as hears mention of the younger. He stalks the halls of the arenas, checking every room, asking everyone he sees whenever he doesn't have a match, but for some reason, it seems as though he's constantly just missing Colby. It's sometime during the fourth week of endless searching that he gives up, almost accustomed to the stomach twists by now. When he's meant to run into the kid, he will, he figures.

It's with this thought in mind that he takes himself to a bar near the hotel after one of their house shows, determined to clear his head for a bit, forget about Colby and offending him and everything to do with it. But, life has a funny way of throwing things in Randy's face right when he least wants to deal with them, so, of course, no sooner has he sat down at the bar and ordered a drink when who should slide up next to him but Colby Lopez. Randy almost falls off his barstool in shock.

"Hey!" Randy exclaims, accidentally cutting the younger off right as he opens his mouth to order a drink.

Colby turns to him with a look of confusion laced with a hint of annoyance. He replies, "Hey?"

Before he can turn back around, Randy tells him, "I've been looking for you."

"I've heard." Colby says, the annoyance fading to something like amusement.

Now, Randy's the one who's confused. Why hasn't the young aerialist found him, then?

"Aren't you the slightest bit curious why?" Randy asks, almost offended when Colby smirks in response.

"Not really. We do work together. I figured you'd find me eventually. And look! You have." the younger exclaims, a touch of condescension in his voice. Realizing he's in for a bit of a conversation, Colby drops down onto the stool next to Randy. He questions, "What's up?"

And Randy almost doesn't want to say it now, but his stomach is nearly doing somersaults being this close, so he figures now is as good a time as any to get this over with and just make it  _stop_. He clears his throat to calm nerves he wasn't even aware could still be stimulated like this, and explains, "I just feel like I was kind of a dick to you. Y'know, about the name thing. Saying Colby's a weird name. It's not that it's a weird name, you just don't really strike me as a...Anyway, sorry. For that."

The look of confusion is back on Colby's face now, and it confuses Randy even further.

"Okay?" Colby says, and Randy feels his brow furrow.

_Okay? What is that?,_ he thinks.

Colby seems to read his mind, because then, he elaborates, "Look, I'm not trying to be an asshole here or anything, but I don't really care what you think of my name. Or whether or not you even know my real name, to be honest. I don't mean that in a mean way, either, it's just, you don't really matter to me? Shit, no, that sounds worse. What I mean is, I don't like you, but I don't dislike you, either, Randy. You're just, like, not even on my radar, I guess. We're co-workers. That's it. So, not to be rude, but I wasn't offended or anything because I just kinda don't give a shit."

And this completely throws the Viper off, leaves him floundering for words for a moment.

" _Really?_ " he finally manages, because here he's been hunting this kid for weeks to apologize, and he  _doesn't care_?

Colby just nods, sliding off the barstool.

"Really and truly. Don't care. At all." the younger reiterates, turning and trying to signal for the bartender once again.

"But I'm  _Randy Orton_!" Randy objects, almost not giving a damn how arrogant he sounds when he says it. Almost, he thinks, because then Colby's turning back to him with a look of barely stifled hysterics, and he kind of feels like a tool.

"Yea. Yea, you are. And I'm Colby Lopez. Or really, you don't even have to call me that. You can keep calling me Seth if it's easier. Seriously, I don't care. I don't know how much more clear I can be about that." Colby tells him. Then, "Wait, yes I do."

The bartender is in front of him, now, and Colby orders the drinks for his table, not even glancing at Randy as they're being made. Once he pays, he grabs all three carefully, finally turning to look at the Viper again. He tips his head in the older's direction.

"I'll see you around." he says in much the same fashion as the first time.

Then, he's off, disappearing into the bar that's managed to get a hell of a lot more crowded in the last few minutes. Randy sits stunned on his stool, staring after the younger once more until he loses sight of him. Once he does, he turns around, propping himself up on the bar with an elbow and stirring his drink, staring into it as he thinks. What the hell was Colby talking about, 'he doesn't care'? Everyone has  _some_  kind of opinion about him, feels some kind of way. Love him or hate him, Randy evoked some kind of emotion in everyone. Except Colby, apparently, if his words were anything to go by. Randy grabs his drink, downing the rest of it in one gulp. Well, fuck that, he thinks. He'll  _make_  the kid like him. With that, he pushes himself off his bar stool, dropping some extra bills onto the bar before turning and heading out. He's got a lot of planning to do.

 

**XXX** **XX**

 

"Jesus Christ, did you have to make them yourself?" Dean half-growls as Colby approaches the table with the drinks.

"Just about. He was talking to some girl's tits the whole time, took me forever to flag him down. Sorry about that." Colby replies, sliding the drinks to his friends and taking his seat at the table again. Better to tell a bit of a lie than send an angry Dean after Randy Orton.

Colby meant what he'd said to the Viper, he really doesn't have an opinion of him. Sure, he's a great wrestler, but Colby only even knows that from the matches he's had with him. Outside the ring, though, he hardly knows the guy, and he's hardly wanted to bend over backward to make friends. He figures if they had anything in common at all, they would have found their way into each others' circle by now. The fact that they haven't has to mean something. But, then again, it's not as though he has anything against Randy, either, having never been personally wronged by him. Colby just really, really couldn't care less about Randy Orton.

At least, he thinks, until now. The older had gone to an awful lot of trouble trying to find him, and to apologize about some off-handed comment? That didn't seem right. Whatever the real reason, Colby can't help but find his curiosity peaked. He settles into conversation with Roman and Dean, he tries to put the thoughts out of his mind. All night, though, a part of him keeps wondering what exactly Randy has in store for him.


	2. Dead On Arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I have to admit, these first few chapters feel like filler, but this whole 'verse is so important to me at this point that it feels like it's part of this story that can't be skipped. It just might take me a bit longer to get it out for a while. Nevertheless! I have lots more finished, so there's tons more to come, and to start with, here's chapter 2. Hope you enjoy. :)

_~This is side one, flip me over_   
_I know I'm not your favorite record_   
_The songs you grow to like never stick at first_   
_So I'm writing you a chorus, and here is your verse~_

 

"You want  _what_  from me?"

And Bryan is completely incredulous when he asks it, stopping what he's doing immediately and turning to Randy with a look of utter confusion. Randy kind of understands this, so he swallows the comeback he once would have fired at the smaller wrestler and opts for being polite instead.

"I would really like to get Colby's number from you.  _Please_." Randy says, and he can almost feel a part of him die on the inside, half pleading with Daniel Bryan of all people.

"Why don't you get it from him?" Bryan asks, and Randy curses internally.

"He's kind of been avoiding me. That's the only reason I even need the number." the Viper explains.

"And somehow you thought that  _I_  would give it to you?" the younger questions, his expression turning to one of almost amusement when Randy nods slowly. But then, Bryan replies, "Yea, no. If you want to talk to him, you'll have to get ahold of him yourself. No way am I going to be a part of this."

Randy doesn't even get a chance to respond, either, because suddenly, Bryan's being called away to meet with people about his match for the night, leaving Randy to stew in his own thoughts. He mentally curses again, felt like he'd been so close. Colby's been pulling the disappearing act even more frequently since their encounter at the bar, and it's got Randy more frustrated than ever, unaccustomed to being avoided like a leper. How's he supposed to set any kind of plan for friendship into action if he never sees the guy?, he wonders. Asking Bryan for the younger's cell phone number had been a desperate effort, sure that if Colby had any idea he was asking around trying to reach him that way, he'd never answer.  _And now_ , he thinks,  _even_  that  _was a bust_.

Randy's just about the leave the locker room, give up on this particular plan, when he hears it. Like a gift from the Gods, there's a cell phone buzzing right next to Bryan's bag. The Viper freezes, turning to stare at it as it rings.  _It has to be Bryan's phone_ , he thinks, watching it vibrate its way across the bench, Brie Bella's face grinning up at him from the screen.  _No one else's it could_ possibly _be._  It finally stops ringing, and Randy pauses, looks around. There's no one left in the locker room to even notice him, he realizes. And really, he hasn't been this person for years, but he's getting desperate here. So, without a second thought, he pockets the phone and strolls out of the locker room, hurrying back to his own as quickly as possible, as if someone can actually see through the pockets of his jeans.

All the way back to his own locker room, Randy can feel the weight of the phone settled into his pocket, somehow heavy opposite his own. It makes him walk the slightest bit faster, trying not to be too obvious. It's not a big deal, he tells himself. He'll just get to his locker room, get the number, and take the phone right back. Bryan won't even notice it's gone. Of course, all of this is much easier said than done, Randy realizes when he attempts to put the plan into action. He finds the number easily enough, plugging it into his own phone and pocketing Bryan's once more. The moment he opens the door to take it back, however, he almost trips over one of the crew members, hand already raised to knock on his door. He shoots the much smaller man a glare.

"Can I help you?" he bites out, frustrated at having his plan derailed once more.

"Uh-uhm, Triple H wants to see you before your match later." the man stammers, barely able to meet Randy's gaze.

Randy rolls his eyes.  _Of course_  he does, he thinks. He asks, "Can this not wait a little bit?"

"He, uh, he said now." is the unfortunate reply, and Randy sighs.

 _So much for being inconspicuous_ , he thinks. He pulls Bryan's cell out of his pocket slowly, handing it to the crew member.

"You'll have to return this, then. Daniel Bryan lost his phone, and I'd hate for him to miss anymore calls from Brie." Randy tells the man, lying through his teeth. Even the crew member seems to see through it, shooting him a curious look even as he accepts the phone. Too late to regret it now, though, Randy figures, heading toward Hunter's temporary office for the night. At least he has the number. And hopefully this way, Colby won't be able to ignore him.

 

**XXXXX**

 

The texts start coming in just as Colby's getting ready to leave for the night, opting to catch a ride with Bryan and Phil since Dean and Roman have plans of a more romantic nature, and the last thing he needs with his own lack of sexual encounters is to disturb one of his friends'.

_Hey! What's up? Are you busy? It's Randy._

Colby stares at his phone in utter confusion. Aloud, he says, "Why the fuck is Randy Orton texting me? How did he even get my number?"

"Holy shit, I think he stole my phone." Bryan replies, shock in his tone. Colby turns to look at him where the older has completely stopped packing up his bags to face his two companions.

" _What?_ " Colby and Phil practically squawk at the same time.

"What do you mean, 'stole your phone'?" Phil questions almost angrily.

"Why the hell would he steal your phone?" Colby asks just slightly louder than Phil, and the older glares at him when Bryan turns to him instead.

"He returned it, geez. Relax. He was asking me for your number earlier, actually. Probably took it to get that, fucking creep." Bryan tells Colby, and the younger's brow furrows.

"Seriously? What is his deal?" Colby wonders aloud, focusing on the random new text message on his phone.

"No idea. Whatever it is, he seems pretty fixated on you, though, kid." Bryan says with a laugh, going back to gathering up his things to leave.

When Phil zips up his own bag harshly, practically storming over Bryan to speak to him in a low, heated voice, Colby moves to reply to the text message, trying to let them have their moment. Before he can type a single word, though, another one is coming in.

_Sorry for hitting you up out of the blue like this. You've just kind of been going out of your way to avoid me. I figure you can't avoid a text message, right? Ha Ha. :)_

Colby glares at the phone.  _We'll see about that_ , he thinks, turning off his screen and dropping his phone into his pocket. Then, he's grabbing his bag, heading out the door behind Bryan and Phil. Fuck Randy Orton, he thinks. If this asshole wants his attention, he's going to have to work for it. And that totally doesn't mean stealing his friend's phone.

 

**III**

 

The text messages don't stop coming, though. If anything, they come more frequently the more of them Colby manages to ignore. It's almost as though Randy knows he doesn't quite have it in him to change his phone number, had it far too long, and the older just keeps taking advantage of that, a new string of texts flooding in after every single live event. One night, Dean can't even help his curiosity, trying to grab Colby's phone out of his hands. Colby holds it close, though, not wanting his friend to catch the name that's lighting up to accompany the message.

_**Randy** _   
_You can't ignore me forever, Colby. Come on, one drink with me and my friends. I promise I won't kill you._

"Seriously Colbs, who the fuck keeps blowing your phone up? If it's that big of a deal, Rome and I can gladly kick their ass for you." Dean offers, and Colby laughs.

"Nah, man, don't worry about it, for real. A couple of the guys just think I need to make more friends." he spouts out, hoping Dean doesn't see through what's almost a lie. Thankfully, his friend just scoffs.

"Ha! Why hang out with anyone else when you already have the best? Tell 'em to fuck off." Dean says with a smirk, and the high flyer nods his agreement, more relieved than he'd like to be that the matter seems to be dropped for the moment.

Colby's pretty confident if the older knew what's really going on, he would almost certainly beat the shit out of Randy, happily, and that's the last thing he needs. He can reject Orton on his own, he thinks. It's with that thought that he finally,  _finally_  replies to a text from the Viper, sending him a single word before pocketing his phone and turning back to his dinner, content to put the whole mess behind him.

 

**XXXXX**

 

Randy can't help the way his face lights up the slightest bit when he feels his phone vibrate in his hand, glancing down to make sure it's actually from Colby before he gets his hopes up too high. He's unprepared for the feeling he gets when he actually reads the response, however, staring at it in disbelief.

" _No_? What the  _fuck_?" Randy half squawks, barely resisting the urge to throw the phone in sheer frustration. "One response in three weeks, and all he says is 'no'?"

John Cena laughs from across the locker room the two have been sharing.

"Are you seriously still harrassing Rollins?" Cena questions, and Randy shoots him a glare.

"He keeps  _ignoring me_." the Viper explains, trying to make his friend see the seriousness of it. John just laughs harder.

"So maybe take a hint for once?" he suggests, biting back a full-on John Cena smirk. "Not everyone wants to be friends with you, y'know."

"It's just because he won't even take the time to get to know me." Randy objects, something that's about as close to a real pout as he's gotten in the last few years clearly adorning his face. He stares at his phone as he mutters, "You never know. He could find me charming."

And John outright guffaws at this, throwing his head back in a real laugh. Randy seems to fold in on himself further, even as John ignores him and pulls on a new shirt for their taping.

"Maybe he  _doesn't want to_ , Randy. Seriously, you can't force him to hang out with you." John tries, but Randy's not having it, already pushing himself off the chair he's been glued to for over an hour now. He drops his phone into his bag and carefully snatches something out of it before shooting his friend a much more solid smirk.

"Maybe I can." the Viper fires back. He has just enough time to catch Cena rolling his eyes before he's exiting the room, mission already in mind.

Randy roams the halls for the better part of five minutes before he finds anyone useful, everyone else busy trying to prepare for tonight's Raw. Finally, he stumbles upon a lone cameraman, too distracted checking his schedule for the night to notice the larger man gliding up next to him. Randy grins, grabbing him by the shirt and dragging him down an empty side hall. Quickly, he checks his surroundings before he turns to the terrified cameraman, pulling the money he'd snuck from his bag out of the front of his trunks, presenting it to the man before him. The man shoots Orton a look that almost seems like a cross between disgust and curiosity as he looks up at him.

"You can have all of this if you tell me where the Shield's locker room is going to be tomorrow night." Randy explains, catching a raised eyebrow in respose.

"What for? You're not gonna hurt them, are you?" the man questions suspiciously, fear still evident in his voice. Randy attempts a smile that he's pretty sure scares the other man more than it reassures him.

"No way. In fact, it has nothing to do with work at all. Scouts' honor." the Viper tells him, adding a salute to try and seal the deal. When the other man still seems skeptical, he says, "I'll double it tomorrow."

"Deal." he receives as an immediate answer, the cameraman thrusting out a hand for him to shake.

Randy's fake smile morphs into a genuine grin as he accepts the other's hand, replying in the same.  _Perfect_ , he thinks as he walks back to his own locker room.  _He definitely can't ignore me in person._

 

**XXXXX**

 

Colby has never been more grateful to be the one to answer the door to their locker room as he is when he opens it to reveal a grinning Randy Orton. It takes everything in him to not immediately slam the door in the older's face, taking a slow, deep breath just to not alert Dean and Roman to anything. He turns to his companions, trying hard not grit his teeth as he tells them it's someone for him. He ignores their more than curious stares as he exits himself from the room, closing the door behind him before they can catch sight of just  _who_  it is. Then, he's grabbing a way too excited Randy by the wrist and dragging him down the hall, yanking him into the first empty room he finds.

"You have got to be  _fucking joking_  right now. You can't just show up at my locker room!" Colby snaps the second the door closes, glaring up at the Viper, who simply smiles back at him. The younger growls in exasperation, clenching his fists at his side to try to keep from shouting as he asks, "What the hell do you want from me?"

"Just your attention." Randy tells him quickly, throwing his hands up in defense as if he's trying to diffuse a situation he didn't expect to become so volatile.  _How could he expect anything else?_ , Colby wonders angrily, but still, he shoots the older a curious look, giving him a chance to explain. Orton exhales slowly, taking on an almost sheepish demeanor as he says, "Look, I'm just not exactly used to being blown off and ignored the way you've been doing, and I just think if you'd at least hang out with me once, you might possibly like me, or at least have  _some_  opinion of me, which would be loads better than this neutral shit."

" _Seriously?_  You've been  _stalking me_  because...are you...I just... _Seriously?_ " Colby questions incredulously, something akin to shock in his tone. He tries to rein in his emotions when he notices how honestly embarrassed Randy looks, letting out a soft sigh and closing his eyes for a moment with a thought of,  _I can't believe I'm doing this._  "So what you're telling me is that if I go out after work with you  _one time_ and I don't completely enjoy myself, you'll drop all of this and leave me the hell alone?"

He immediately wants to take it back when Randy instantly perks up, smile spreading across his face as it lights up in something Colby's pretty sure is legitimate excitement. But then, Orton is nodding happily, informing him, "Absolutely. I'll forget everything. I'll even forget your real name if you want."

Colby just rolls his eyes, confused as to why he suddenly can't bring himself to disappoint the older with another rejection even as he's telling Randy, "Okay, fine. Fine. One time. But for real, if I don't have the best time of my  _life_ , you stop bugging the crap out of me, and we go back to being distant co-workers. Got me?"

The Viper nods even harder, grin so large that Colby almost finds himself fighting one of his own.  _Almost._

"Yea, you've got it. I promise. How's tonight?" Randy asks, almost all in one breath.

"Yea, no. Bad timing for tonight." Colby replies. No way can he ditch Dean and Roman that easily tonight, he thinks, and no way is he going to bring them along, or even tell them. He offers instead, "How about you text me next Monday after Raw and tell me where you and your guys are headed, and I'll meet you there. Sound good?"

"Sounds great." the older swiftly agrees. He reaches out, ruffling Colby's hair and drawing a scowl across the younger's face as he slaps the hand away. Randy just keeps grinning. "See you then."

Then, he's gone, door clicking shut behind him as he leaves the boy alone to ponder what the hell just happened, and what the hell he had just agreed to.


	3. Glad You Came

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: When I say slow burn, I mean slooowww buuurrrnn, haha. Hopefully it's not too bad, though, and everyone is still enjoying. I should be finishing up writing the rest of the fic that's not already cross-posted, so fingers crossed this entire thing will get delivered on time, weekly. Thanks so much for reading either way!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own shit.

_~My universe will never be the same_   
_I'm glad you came~_

 

The rest of the week finds Colby regretting he'd ever even agreed to go out with Orton, the older letting up a bit on the texts, but changing the tone to one of sheer elation in anticipation of the night ahead. The high flyer even answers a few of them, hoping to get Randy to lay off at least a little bit, but it just has the opposite effect, texts growing more excited with each reply. By Friday, Colby can feel his stomach turn every time he even thinks about the upcoming Raw and the events thereafter, and he makes a decision: he has to cancel their plans. He feels bad about it, sure, but for some reason, he's  _certain_  he'll feel worse if he goes.  _Randy Orton?_  Really, what was he thinking? The Viper is never someone he's wanted in his circle, and he has reasons for that. No reason to start now, right? Right, so, he just can't hang out with the guy, he decides.

So, Colby spends the rest of the weekend going back to dodging texts and frantically trying to think of an excuse that's plausible, but also doesn't make him sound like a complete asshole (though, why he even cares about the older's opinion of him at all, he's unsure of, and chooses not to even think about for too long). He curses himself the entire time for suggesting Monday night, of all nights. Almost any other day, he's pretty positive he could weasel out of plans fairly simply, skip out of town early or something and not even deal with the repercussions. With tapings two days in a row, though, he has no idea what the hell he can even say.

For a moment, he considers telling Randy something close to the truth, that Dean and Roman don't want him to go. But with his luck, he thinks, Randy would just go talk to them about it directly, knows that if the Viper is willing to steal Bryan's phone, he's almost certainly not afraid of talking to the younger's best friends. Colby can just imagine how well that would go, considering the other two don't even know he's been in contact with Orton, especially not on a familiar enough level to try and hang out with each other. Them finding out from the Legend Killer himself is the absolute last thing he needs right now. No, what he needs to do is squash this where it is, get rid of whatever affections Randy is trying to shove off on him and move on, forget it happened.

Which ultimately leads him back to his original decision in agreeing to go out with the older in the first place, to get Orton off his back, get him to drop this silly...whatever it is, since it seemed to be the only way. He hates this complete indecisiveness, the way this whole situation has him constantly thinking in circles trying to figure out how to resolve it. It drives him crazy, so much so that he ultimately has no other choice but to ignore the whole thing before he lets it get to him enough for Dean and Roman to actually notice. He figures if he waits long enough, the answer will come to him eventually. It has to...right?

 _Wrong_ , Colby soon finds out. So,  _so_  wrong, in fact, that it leaves him pacing back and forth in the empty Shield locker room, having taken so much of his dear, sweet time to clean up after Raw and get ready to leave that even Dean and Roman have already bailed out, going so far as to leave a note telling him to take the long way back to the hotel room.  _Awesome_ , he thinks, even hiding there disappearing as an option. When the almost excited text with the location of the bar lights up the phone in his hand as he paces, Colby doesn't even know what to say. He huffs out a sigh, almost left with no other choice but to agree. He's still unconvinced, though, so instead, he continues to pace, ignoring text after text from Randy (and feeling more like an asshole with each one) until suddenly, a loud knock on the door makes him jump almost a foot in the air, phone slipping from his grasp with the jolt. He barely catches it before he hits the floor, stammering out a response to whoever is knocking in the same motion. He feels his face heat up in embarrassment as an older man, evidently a building employee, sticks his head into the room.

"Hey, kid, we really need to lock up soon, if that's okay." the man tells him, and Colby immediately snatches his bag off the floor and heads over to the door.

"Shit, yea! That's fine! I-I'm sorry I was holding you up like that! I'm just gonna go ahead and go." Colby replies hurriedly, nearly running all the way out to the parking lot with something akin to a feeling of outright humiliation.

He can't believe he was the last one in the building, he thinks, half-trembling as he tries to unlock his rental.

"Oh, thank  _God_ , Seth! Wait!" a voice suddenly sounds off behind him, and Colby startles, spinning around just in time to catch Cody Rhodes rushing up to the car.  _Apparently I wasn't the last today, either_ , he thinks almost smugly. He immediately goes back to feeling like a dick, however, as Cody says hurriedly, "I'm so glad you haven't left yet. Randy was supposed to give me a ride tonight, but he was all excited about some fucking plans he has and took off early. Now, he's sitting with Cena at the bar texting me all, 'where are you?' and I'm sitting here like, 'hey, I'm stuck here where you  _left me_ , asshole', so...can I catch a ride with you?"

 _That's it_ , Colby thinks,  _life is mocking me._  But, he agrees, and Cody thanks him profusely, practically skipping around the car to slide into the passenger seat.

"The bar's just right up the road, so it's even on the way back to the hotel, if you can just drop me by there." Cody explains once they're on the road.

And Colby bites back a sigh as he replies, "Yea, it's no problem. I was on my way there, anyway."

Because really,  _really_ , he thinks, what other choice does he even have?

 

**XXXXX**

 

"It's almost one in the morning, man. Maybe he's just not coming." Cena tells his friend, barely stifling a yawn. Next to him, Randy exhales a deep sigh.

"He said he'd be here, though. He's said it a few times this week." Randy objects, eyes still glued to his phone on the table in front of him. "He probably just got tied up with something with his stupid friends. He'll be here."

It's John's turn to sigh now, flagging down the waitress and ordering a Red Bull this time. Looks like they're in for a long night, he thinks. At least, he hopes so, turning almost sad eyes on his friend, who still won't look up from the phone. He'd really like to think the kid wouldn't just stand Randy up without so much as a message, but to be fair, neither of them knows Rollins all that well, so anything is possible. John is still fairly curious as to why exactly Randy even  _wants_  to get to know Rollins that well, the Viper normally fairly selective about his friendship circle. It's half the reason Cena had even agreed to come out tonight, interested in finding out just what it is that has Randy so attached already.

So far, though, Seth has been a no-show, not so much as an explanation making its way to Orton's phone, and it has both of them on edge. Cody was supposed to show up at some point as well, per Randy, but he hasn't made it yet, either, leaving John and Randy to nurse their drinks alone at a table tucked away from all of their much more excited co-workers, trying not to look too pathetic as they wait. This is pretty hard to accomplish the more time that goes by, as Randy seems to curl in on himself further and further, hunching over his phone in almost misery at the thought of actually being blown off by this kid.

Just as John is about ready to throw in the towel at the sight, pay the waitress for his energy drink and force his friend to leave, he hears a voice that makes him freeze.

"Randy Orton, you are an  _asshole_ , and you owe me a fucking drink." Cody snaps, storming over and dropping down next Randy at the table, an utterly nervous Seth Rollins in tow. Cody gestures to his companion. "You owe Seth one, too, since he was nice enough to drive me here after you  _left me at the arena_."

Randy perks up so much, it actually draws a chuckle from John, even as his friend looks completely past Cody to turn all of his attention on the anxious high flyer.

"Colby! You made it!" Randy exclaims, and Cody gapes, looking between the two of them in confusion.

" _Colby_?" he questions of Randy as the younger sits down as well, not meeting anyone's eyes. "Since when are you two on a real-name basis?"

And John has to admit, he's curious, too, shooting Randy a questioning look alongside Cody's.

"We're kind of not. Your friend is just too damn nosy for his own good, sometimes." Colby answers instead, instantly relaxing when John barks out a laugh next to him.

"You've got that right." Cena replies. He turns to Colby with a smirk. "Let me guess, this is your standard 'well, so-and-so calls you that' situation, am I right?"

It's Colby's turn to laugh, now, shooting Randy a smirk of his own. "Seriously, Orton? You make a habit of this kind of thing? Figuring out people's real names and then stalking them out for attention?"

"Hey, now! How did this become Attack Randy Day? Didn't I invite all of  _you_  here?" Randy objects, face actually starting to tinge red, and John laughs even harder. Cody's wearing something of a glare, though, Randy assuming it's from being left at the arena as he offers to the group, "Would drinks make this better? John, call that waitress over here again or somethin'! Next round is on me if we drop this right here."

"Next  _two_  rounds." Cody reminds him, and yea, that's  _definitely_  a glare, one that Randy stealthily chooses to ignore in favor of flagging down the waitress himself. He can only deal with one trainwreck at a time, and Cody is one he can handle later. He turns to Colby as the waitress approaches.

"What's your drink? Vodka? Whisky? Beer?" he questions, almost too eager to find out more about the preplexing younger wrestler.

"Oh, no. Water, please. It's already late." Colby replies, shaking his head.

"Which means you have to catch up. Come on, it's on me. Anything you want." Randy tells the boy, and Colby shoots him an almost challenging look.

"Anything?" he fires back, and Randy almost regrets it as he responds in kind. Colby turns to the waitress with a grin. "Give me a double of your top shelf whiskey."

And Cody can't even stop his near hysterical laughter at the wide-eyed expression painted across Randy's face as he looks at the high flyer.

"Seriously, kid?" the Viper asks incredulously.

"You said anything.  _Twice_." Colby replies, smug look set in on his face. Meeting Randy's eyes almost nervously, he says, "And I believe you also said something about 'time of my life'. And 'time of my life' includes top shelf whiskey."

Randy sighs, dropping his face into his hands as he tells the waitress, "Fine, get him his goddamn double. And whatever these two idiots want."

Both John and Cody are curious even as they order their own drinks, but neither says anything about it aloud, Cody barely managing to stifle his laughter, and John unable to look away from this odd new addition to their circle. Colby doesn't even notice, though, still smirking at Randy across the table. The Viper peers through his fingers at the younger, finally pulling his hands away enough to show his own grin. As Colby's smirk dissolves into more of a shy smile, John clears his throat to stop the interaction before Cody can notice, the two of them almost blushing as they turn to look anywhere but each other. Cena watches them both carefully, almost certain that neither of them even noticed they were practically flirting, and he bites back a sigh, turning his focus on Colby once again.

"So Randy finally bullied you into coming out, huh?" he asks, and the smile the younger fixes John with makes at least one of the reasons for Randy's attraction very apparent.

"Ha,  _harassed_  is more like it." Colby clarifies, but adds almost immediately, "But I mean, I guess it's not so bad. It is kind of nice to hang out with people who aren't Roman and Dean every once in a while."

"I thought you and Bryan were pretty close." John says, but it's much more of a question than he means it to be. Colby coughs out a laugh.

"Well, yea. I mean, him and Phil, both. But honestly, when was the last time you saw either of them in a bar?" he asks, and Randy laughs harder than he should at the thought.

John shoots him a look,  _not the way to make a good impression_ , but speaks over him, anyway, even as the Viper stifles his laugh. No need to make Colby more uncomfortable than he most definitely already is. He offers the boy a kind smile of his own.

"Well, consider this an open invitation anytime we all out go out like this, okay? As long as you can stomach Randy, you're okay around here." John finishes with a light smirk.

He almost cringes when Cody scoffs across from him, Colby turning his eyes on him with a hint of fear. Thankfully, the waitress chooses that exact moment to show back up, and John breathes a silent sigh of relief, watching closely as Randy relaxes a bit, too. As they take their shots and go back to talking, John makes an effort to steer the conversation back to more neutral topics, work, and music, and life in general, anything but whatever... _this thing_  is that's evidently budding between his best friend and possibly one of the most random of their co-workers. Until the two of them figure it out themselves, it's best to keep it a little more quiet, he thinks. Especially in front of Cody, who already seems a little more than annoyed at their newest member to the group. Still, he doesn't want to scare Colby away, either, Randy obviously more fixated than he should be, so he tries to keep things light for his sake, as well. The entire time, though, he can't help but be a bit pissed at his friend, dragging him into this meeting just to have to turn around and play mediator. But, one glance at Randy's obviously beyond nervous state tells him everything he needs to know about this whole situation, even if the Viper doesn't realize it himself, and while John knows they'll definitely be having a very serious talk about this later, he needs to be here for his best friend, now, so he plays his role silently. Before any of them realize it, though, it's after two thirty in the morning, and John can't even bite back the yawn that rips its way out of his mouth, stretching to accompany it.

"Jesus, it's late. You guys all ready to get out of here?" he asks, looking at each of his companions individually as he stands. Unfortunately, Randy has been drinking just enough to slide over into the seat he just vacated, eyes focused on Colby as he moves closer.

"Nah, you can go ahead. I'm wide awake." Orton replies, offering up his car keys to his friend without even looking up. "You can take the car. Colby can drive me back. Right, kid?"

Colby laughs a little too loud, turning to John with a red faced grin that momentarily makes the older worry about leaving either of them. "Don't you just love how he thinks he runs the world? Don't worry about it, I can drive him back, though. I'm sure we won't be here too much later."

Neither of them notice the way that Cody huffs out a sigh, shoving away from the table and storming to the door, but John definitely does, thanking Colby and dropping some money on the table before turning to hurry after the younger. By the time he makes it outside, Cody is halfway to the rental, and John calls his name to try and stop him. When the boy doesn't even slightly hesitate, John jogs to catch up, worried at the sight of the glare on his face. Cody ignores him all the way to the car, stopping at the passenger side and crossing his arms over his chest. John exhales slowly, unlocking the car and dropping into the driver's seat as Cody slides into the other side angrily. Cena tries to give the younger time to talk, but Cody won't even look at him.

"Are we gonna fucking go?" Cody snaps after a few minutes, and John sighs now, turning the car on and backing out. They're easily a few miles into their drive before Cody speaks again. "Does he do this shit just to piss me off?"

 _Of course_  that's why Cody's mad, John thinks, glancing at the younger every few seconds as he drives.

"I don't think so. To be honest, I don't even think he realizes he's doing it." John clarifies as best he can. Then, "You know Randy's not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed sometimes."

"The hell he doesn't!" Cody fires back, arms shaking as they sit still crossed over his chest. He turns to look at John as he says, "It's like he invited me out just to rub it in my face!"

"Come on, Cody, you know better than that." John tries, but Cody scoffs.

"I  _thought_  I did. You and I both know Randy hasn't exactly been the most trustworthy over the last few years." the younger replies, and John's jaw involuntarily clenches. Whatever happened between Randy and Cody all those years ago is completely irrelevant as far as Randy and John's own friendship is concerned, and for Cody to try and drag John into it again is awfully low, even for the situation at hand. He sighs again.

"No, I don't know that, Codes. What I  _do_  know is that Randy still considers you one of his best friends, even after everything that's happened, and I'm pretty sure  _that's_  why he invited you out tonight, considering this is the first time he and Colby have even seen each other outside of our jobs." John informs Cody, defending his friend to the best of his ability. He meets Cody's eyes as best he can while still focusing on the road in front of them. "Maybe he wanted to make a good impression for once. Judging by your reaction right now, it's really not a question as to  _why_  he would have to try so hard."

And Cody actually seems to fold in on himself at this, something resembling shame washing over his features in a way that makes John feel almost guilty. Cody looks at his own lap and John turns his gaze completely back to the road, driving on in silence for a moment. Then, it's almost as if the silence has become too much, because he can't help but continue.

"Look, I'm not trying to be an asshole to you, nor am I trying to minimalize anything that happened between the two of you. All I'm saying is that that was then, and this is now, and right now, Randy is your  _friend_ , who has  _nothing_  going on with  _Seth Rollins_  and just really, maybe, needs a few more friends himself." he says, trying to ignore the fact that each word hits Cody a little bit harder.

"I know." Cody finally replies, voice so small it actually hurts John a bit to hear. "It's just hard sometimes."

"I know it is." John tells him, pulling up outside the hotel and parking. He turns to face Cody completely as he asks, "Can you at least try to play nice? For Randy's sake?"

It takes a few moments, and Cody definitely huffs out an almost painful sigh first, but eventually, he nods. As the two of them exit the car and head toward the entrance of the building, John figures it's all he can ask for. All that's left now is to talk to Randy.

 

**XXXXX**

 

Back at the bar, Colby has to admit, he's definitely had worse times than he's had with Randy Orton tonight, and that thought kind of scares him. He's laughed more than he has in a really long time, and while it's mostly been at the older wrestler's expense, Randy doesn't exactly seem to mind, and there's something about that that Colby finds comfort in. So much comfort, in fact, that it's nearing three in the morning when the waitress finally comes around and essentially forces them to close out Randy's tab, the bar closing down all around them. Colby is shocked as he takes in his surroundings for the first time in over an hour. They're the last two customers in the bar, and Colby feels his face heat up even as his companion pays. He didn't even want to come out tonight. How did he wind up staying out until  _three in the morning_  with  _Randy fucking Orton_? Still, he thinks, too late to take it back now, walking Randy to his own rental car. The older is definitely not in any position to drive, so Colby slides behind the wheel himself, turning the radio up before he even puts his seatbelt on. Randy shoots him something strikingly close to a fond grin, one that Colby carefully ignores in favor of checking his blind spot as he backs out of the parking space. The Viper doesn't even wait for him to put the car in drive before he's talking again.

"Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Randy asks, and Colby smirks.

"Not bad, I'll say that much. Though, I'm pretty sure the agreement was 'the time of my life.'" the high flyer replies, sending Randy into nearly full-on pout mode. Colby laughs so hard, he almost can't see straight enough to drive, and for a moment, he wonders if he should be driving at all. He shakes his head, though, clears his vision a bit before responding. "But, y'know. Maybe you're not a complete jackass."

Randy looks almost hopeful as he tries, "Does that mean I can get you to come out with us again?"

"I'll think about it." Colby tells him honestly, unwilling to give the older too much hope just yet. Still, when Randy grins, he can't help but add, "But probably."

"So...we're friends now?" the Viper questions, sitting up a little straighter, even in his completely inebriated state.

"We're not just co-workers anymore, but I dunno if I'd go that far." Colby responds, and Randy turns his gaze toward the road, a light smirk settling on his face.

"We'll get there." Randy mutters confidently, and Colby barely manages to not snicker out loud.

He can't believe it, but he's almost glad he came out tonight, never seen this side of Randy before, and likely never would have. It's something he would never have pictured himself enjoying this much, and he doesn't even want to think about it right now, so he instead focuses solely on driving and not at  _all_  on the drunken, grinning passenger in his car. The rest of the drive to the hotel is spent in a comfortable silence, only the music spilling from the car's speakers breaking it. Randy nods along with the music in a way that brings a soft smile to Colby's face, no matter how hard he tries to fight it, and he blames it on his alcohol intake, pulling a little too fast into a parking place, distracted. He feels his face heat up as the front bumper scrapes the curb, but the older ignores it, thankfully, and he backs up a bit before putting it in park. He turns to face the Viper, and he feels his blush spread as he's met with an utterly endearing smile from his passenger seat.

"So, here we are." Randy says, and Colby has to clear his throat to even respond.

"We are here." he replies with a light chuckle, turning the car off, anything to distract from the older's practically penetrating stare. Thankfully, Randy seems to sense his discomfort, eyes flickering down to lap before meeting Colby's once more, much less confidence in them now.

"Is, uh. Is this where we take separate entrances into the hotel and act like this little encounter didn't happen so your friends don't find out?" he asks, and Colby instantly feels like a dick, wondering if it's that obvious. He suddenly can't meet the older's eyes, and doesn't know whether to feel better or worse when the older adds, "Since I assume that's why you took so long tonight."

Colby exhales slowly, feeling just a little bit disgusting. Still, he can't help but be honest about the whole thing, muttering, "Am I going to sound like a complete asshole if I say it would probably be easier if we did?"

And Randy looks at the ceiling of the rental as he barks out a laugh, but tells the younger honestly, "No. Though it does make me feel the need to evaluate where  _I'm_  at in this industry. And life."

"You said it, not me." Colby replies almost on instinct, and Randy laughs even harder, a sincere one this time, relaxing the high flyer only the slightest bit.

"Okay, okay. I get it, be nicer. Whatever. I'll be nicer to  _you_." the Viper fires back, finally facing his companion again. "Alright. I'm gonna go before I make an even bigger idiot of myself tonight. I'll even go in the side door for you."

That one kind of stings, Colby thinks, can't imagine how it felt for the older. He says, "I'm sor-"

"This was fun. We should do it again." Randy cuts him off. Then, he's opening the door, exiting the car. Before he leaves, though, he leans back in, dropping a final statement. "Please don't go back to ignoring my text messages."

With that, he's gone, shutting the door firmly behind him. Colby drops his head back against the headrest and shuts his eyes, can't even bring himself to watch the older man walk across the parking lot and clear around the building to the side door just as he'd said. Instead, he lets the higher points of the evening run back through his mind, honestly surprised at how many there are. If someone would have told him last week he would have enjoyed himself this much tonight, he probably would have laughed them out of the building. Yet, he's spent most of the night laughing for a completely different reason, honestly amused with the people in whose company he'd been. The thought makes him more nervous the more he thinks about it, so after a few minutes, he pushes it to the back of his mind, getting out of the car and heading into the building himself.

As he walks, it becomes painstakingly obvious just how much he really had to drink, the liquor finally setting in on the drive back and now making his vision swim before his eyes a bit as he enters the elevator, searching for the number to his floor. He wonders how Randy managed, feeling all the more guilty for not even walking inside with him. Too late to worry about it now, though, the elevator doors opening before him almost as if to eject him onto his floor. He curses when he stumbles a bit exiting onto the carpet outside the elevator, trying desperately to pull it together before he makes it to the Shield room. He can't quite seem to, however, swiping his key card four times before finally managing to get the door unlocked, so instead, he hopes beyond reason that his friends are at least asleep.

When Colby opens the door, the first thing is notices is that Dean and Roman are dead to the world, naked and wrapped up in the sheets and each other, and he's pretty sure he's never been as relieved as he is  _right now_  to see them like that. Better this than awake to catch him sneaking into their shared hotel room at 3:45 in the morning, pretty drunk and fresh off a night with Randy Orton and John Cena. He can just  _see_  it, and the thought turns his stomach more than the alcohol in it...he thinks. Either way, he needs to lie down ASAP, and he barely manages to tug off his shoes and pants before he's falling into the bed. He's just about to nod off when he hears his phone vibrate in his pocket on the floor, and he bites back a groan as he leans off the bed. It takes him longer than he'd like to pull the phone from his pants, and he collapses back onto his pillow with a huff to read the text message that has so rudely disturbed his almost slumber.

_**Randy** _   
_Night, kid._

And Colby can't even fight the smile that spreads across his face at the sight.  _Of course_ , he thinks. Even after everything Colby's said, the older can't seem to leave him alone. Still, the least he can do is keep his word and not ignore the damn thing, so he pulls up the keyboard to reply. He whispers the words aloud into the darkness as he types them into the phone before dropping it to his chest and finally falling asleep.

"Goodnight, Randy."


	4. Goodnight and Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I realized belatedly that I may not have mentioned the timeline for this whole thing AT ALL. So, since the story actually begins around late March of 2013, this particular section takes place over a span of time between mid-May and early June. Moving on! Hope you enjoy! =)

_~Why d'ya have to be so cute?_   
_It's impossible to ignore you._   
_Must you make me laugh so much?_   
_It's bad enough we get along so well._   
_Say goodnight and go.~_

 

True to his word, Colby does consider the offer to spend more time with Randy and his friends. So much so, honestly, that he actually ends up going out with them almost regularly, somehow winding up out at some bar, or diner, or even one of the others' hotel rooms until the wee hours of the morning at least once a week. And really, he thinks, it'd be much easier to turn the offer down if Dean and Roman were even the slightest bit curious as to where he's been running off to lately, but they seem to be more focused on the newfound privacy they've gained as a result of it, something they'd grown accustomed to having to do without while they're on the road. Normally, Colby's pretty sure he'd be significantly more upset that his best friends don't seem to care what he's doing, but it has been giving him more time to do what he wants, namely, explore the strange almost-friendship he's discovered in Randy, on his own. And really, he can't completely blame them, either. If he  _had_  anyone to have sex with, he'd want to have it as often as possible within their already tight schedule, too. At this thought, he huffs out a half sigh, unfocused eyes locked tight onto his drink on the table in front of him. He startles as he feels a shoulder knock into his own, jolted back into the present moment by a laugh sounding off next to him. He turns sheepish eyes on Randy, and then Cena across the table from him, Cody already tapped out for the night.

"Sorry, I guess I zoned out. What were we talking about?" he says, picking up his glass to take another drink. Before he can, though, Randy's reaching out and taking it from his hand, smirking as he dangles the half-full glass a few inches in front of his face.

"You sure you need any more of this?" the older teases, and Colby tries to grab it back, Randy moving it at the last second.

"Lucky for you, I don't have to drive, or I might actually listen to that. Conveniently enough, we're in the  _hotel bar_  for that exact reason. Give it back." Colby fires back, fingers just managing to brush the glass as Randy pulls it even further away. Colby shoots him a half-glare. Randy just grins harder.

"I'd hate for you to zone out walking back to your room. Knock yourself out in the elevator or something. Get yourself stolen by a rabid fan." he replies, swapping hands to hold the drink almost out in the aisle as Colby nearly grabs it. The high flyer smirks now and leans clean across the older, shoving Randy against the back of booth so hard in the process that he almost drops the glass altogether. He turns wide eyes on the younger, using his free hand to hold him at bay.

"Well, if I get that drunk, you'll just have to carry me back to my room." Colby tells him, and Randy swallows thickly, their lack of space sending a strange sensation churning in his stomach. He shakes his head.

"Oh, no. Not gonna happen. Your friends would think I drugged you!" he objects with a near nervous laugh, and Colby's gaze hardens.

"Give me the drink or I'll tell them you did, anyway." the high flyer half-threatens, Randy shaking his head again before the boy can even finish.

"You wouldn't do that. You don't hate me that much." Randy says, confident smile on his face even as Colby presses in closer, almost grabs the drink again. His eyes lock on tight with the Viper's, an almost daring look in them, and suddenly, Randy can't breathe.

"Try me," Colby tempts him quietly, barely breathes it, but before Randy can even think of an answer, John Cena the Buzzkill is cutting in once again.

" _Children_. Do we have to do this in public?" the older scolds, reaching across the table to take the drink from Randy himself and set it on the table in front of Colby. The two of them instantly separate, blushing as they turn to the table. John just smirks, watching them carefully.

After a moment, Colby clears his throat, downing the rest of his drink in one movement. Setting down the empty glass, he turns to look at them with a timid smile.

"On that note. You do make a good point, Randy. I probably have had enough to drink for tonight. I'm gonna go ahead and get going." he tells them, nudging at Randy to let him out as he moves to stand. The Viper doesn't budge, shooting him a look that almost qualifies as a pout.

"Aw, come on. I'm sorry, kid. You don't have to leave just because I was being an ass." he offers, grabbing Colby's arm as if to physically keep him sitting.

Colby just laughs, taking the older's hand and removing it from his arm. His grip lingers, though, Randy's hand heavy in his, and he speaks to avoid focusing on the heat radiating from it, the way Randy doesn't pull away. Cena raises an eyebrow as he looks between the two of them. Well, this is new, he thinks. He watches Colby turn shy eyes on Randy, smile still pressed onto his face as he shakes his head.

"Nah, it's not that. I just need to be getting back. We're on the road kind of early tomorrow." Colby explains, and Randy sighs, finally taking his hand back and sliding out of the booth.

"If you have to." he grumbles, and Colby laughs again, patting the older on the back as he slides out as well.

"Sorry, I do." the high flyer replies. He turns to John with a wide grin and a wave, and John smiles back. "John. Nice to see you, as always. Randy, I'll text you tomorrow. Have a good night, guys."

Then, he's gone, making his way out of the bar and into the lobby of the hotel. Randy watches him walk away, and John watches Randy follow the boy with his gaze, even as he drops back into the booth. There's a strange emotion in the Viper's eyes, something that's been there anytime Colby's been present as of late, something John  _knows_  he's seen before, but he struggles especially now to put his finger on it. As Randy finally turns back to his friend, he shifts around almost restlessly, like it's difficult for him to get comfortable again. He's red-faced and kind of half-scowling, and as John runs his gaze over the younger, it suddenly clicks.  _Well, shit_ , he thinks,  _that's_ definitely  _new._

 

**XXXXX**

 

Colby is turned on. Very, very turned on, he realizes as he walks toward the elevator, trying to put more distance between himself and the source of his current problem still seated in the hotel bar. He  _really_ needs to get laid, he decides, if  _Randy_  is managing to turn him on. And when had he dropped the older's last name?, he wonders. He shakes his head, because he wants to think about that even less than he wants to think about his current predicament and how he got there, so instead, he focuses on getting back to the room and  _praying_  that his friends are already asleep tonight so that he can just take care of things and go straight to bed. No such luck, though, he realizes with a soft curse when he opens the hotel room door to find the two of them sprawled across their bed, wide awake and grinning at the TV instead. They both turn the grins on Colby as he makes his way in, Dean sitting up and coughing out a laugh as he meets the younger's eyes.

"Well, I'll be damned! Look who's back early for once!" he jokes, and Colby fights the urge to look guilty. "And where is it that you've been fucking off to all the time lately?"

Colby barely restrains himself from outwardly groaning.  _Of course_  he wants to know that right now. The high flyer scoffs, plastering a grin on his face as he thinks of every horrendous, gross thing he can think of to tame his erection, eyes locked onto Dean's to keep him distracted.

"I've been hanging out with  _other people_ , Dean. What, I can only be friends with you guys now?" he fires back lightheartedly, still full of sarcasm from the last few hours. Still, he catches the light flash of hurt that crosses Dean's eyes, quick, and then it's gone, and then the older is smirking back at him (and that definitely does the trick, because now instead of focusing on his dick, Colby's pretty focused on feeling like one).

" _Oh_. Oh, no, I get it. Hey, Roman," Dean says, dropping his head backwards to look at their companion still laying on his stomach behind him. "Colby's been hanging out with people who are cooler than us."

"No, hey, it's not like that!" Colby tries to object, freezing right in the middle of kicking off his shoes at the foot of the bed.

Dean tilts his head back forward to meet his friend's eyes, amused smirk set on his face.

"Yea? Then what's it like, Colbs? How come we never get an invite to hang out with your cool, new friends?" the older teases, and Colby relaxes the slightest bit. Evidently, Dean's not  _too_  upset. He continues to remove his clothes down to his underwear, flopping down onto his stomach on his own bed before answering.

"You never asked?" he offers, hoping Dean will take that answer at face value. Quickly, he adds, "Plus, you seemed to be taking enough advantage of the alone time..."

And Roman coughs at that, suddenly very, very focused on the television and very much  _not_  focused on the coversation happening next to him. Dean grins and elbows him, but he doesn't look up, turning up the volume instead. This only manages to send Colby into a laughing fit on the other bed, sending a rush of red across Roman's face even as he tries his damndest to ignore the two of them.

In an effort to save his friend from any further embarrassment, Colby says, "That, and I didn't really figure you'd want to go. It's not like it's anyone you'd like."

Dean fixes him a with a look that almost makes him squirm at the addition, and for a terrifying moment, Colby worries that he's going to ask 'who', but there seem to be some small miracles left on his side, because Dean tells him instead, "Well, I would still appreciate the invitation to turn down next time."

"I'll keep that in mind." the high flyer replies with a laugh. Then, before Dean can say anything else on the subject, "So, what's on TV?"

He's overly relieved when Dean lets the matter drop, lets Roman answer Colby and settles into a much easier topic of conversation. He's still the slightest bit turned on, and he'd prefer not to think about that at all, prefer to try and forget about who he'd been with to even get that way. As they fall back into their usual light banter, Colby manages to almost push the whole thing to the very furthest reaches of his mind.

Still, when his friends finally drift off to sleep, Colby sneaks off to the bathroom, way too relieved to handle the problem that's been nagging at him all evening. Jumping into the shower, he focuses solely on sensation alone as he masturbates, determined not to think about anyone in particular. When he comes, though, he can't stop the visions of tribal tattoos that dance before his eyes, making his orgasm that much better.

 _Fuck_ , he thinks, slumping against the cold tile of the wall to catch his breath,  _I have_ got _to get laid_.

 

**XXXXX**

 

"So, at what point are you going to admit that this is now officially more than you just wanting to be friends with Colby?" John finally asks Randy somewhere around two months into the boys' weekly (and sometimes bi-weekly) hangout sessions.

Randy is caught so off-guard, he drops the shirt he was about to put on, and John barely manages not to laugh. To his credit, though, the Viper tries his damndest to hide his shock, gaze darting immediately to the fallen t-shirt as if he's clueless as to why it leapt from his hands in the first place. As he leans down to pick it up, he coughs, clears his throat before responding.

"I'm not sure what you mean, John. Why else would I be hanging out with him?" the younger fires back, trying entirely too hard to open the shirt up and get it over his head before John can answer the question.

He's lucky the shirt is over his head before John does answer, because he can't even stifle the reaction as John says, "I dunno, maybe because you want to fuck him?"

"What the fuck?" Randy practically sqauwks, and this time John can't hold the laughter back, throwing his whole body into it as he nearly cackles at his friend. The Viper tries, "Wh-why would you think something li- _dammit, John!_ "

John can't stop the laughter, Randy's face growing more and more red by the second just spurring him on further. He finally manages to calm himself down enough to catch his breath, wipe his eyes and look across the locker room to find his friend's.

"Sorry, sorry." John half chokes out, still brushing the remains of tears from his eyes. "It's just, come on, I see how you look at him. Like you're undressing him with your eyes, man. And you're always  _touching_  him, like you can't even help it. Seriously, you're too obvious."

Randy won't look at him at all now, face dripping in embarrassment as he struggles to think of some kind of retort.

Before he can, though, John fixes him with a smirk, crossing his arms over his chest as he asks, "And tell me honestly, how long has it been since you've gotten laid?"

"That has  _nothing_  to do with  _anything_." Randy snaps in a way that suggests it actually has  _a lot_  to do with it, angry eyes turned back on his friend, so John can't stop himself from prying.

"You sure?" John says, and Randy shoots him a glare. John shrugs. "Just sayin'. It's a thought. Maybe it hasn't crossed your mind  _consciously_  yet, man, but trust me. It's an option."

There are a few long moments of silence as they both move to finish preparing for Raw, Randy letting the words roll around in his head. Suddenly, it's like something clicks, because he stops lacing up his boot to fix John with an overly curious look.

"Wait, what makes you think it's an option?" he asks, and John smirks, walking over to lean on the locker next to Randy as the younger finishes up.

"The same reason I know  _you_  want it, Randal." and Randy bristles at the name, glares at his friend. John knows better. But, the older doesn't care, still smirking as he explains, "I'm not blind. And hey, maybe he's in your completely oblivious boat, and he hasn't realized it, either. All I'm saying is, the way you two sit around eye-fucking each other, maybe it's about time to get to the  _actual_  fucking."

Randy's so flustered that when he opens his mouth to respond, no sound comes out, and he feels an immediate blush heat his face. Thankfully, he's saved from any further comments by a knock on the door, luck on his side for once as it's someone to fetch John for the ring. Still, it's like he can't resist fucking with the younger, because just before he leaves, he grips Randy's shoulders, gets right in his personal space.

"Seriously, Randy. Think about it. Never know, it might do you some good." Cena tells him, almost overconfident smirk set on his face.

Then, he pats Randy on the back just hard enough to almost throw the younger off-balance, and he's gone, letting the door slam shut behind him. The Viper rolls his eyes. His idiot friends, he thinks. Where do they even get this shit? He and Colby? Sex? Yea, right, he thinks with a scoff, tugging a shirt over his head. There's nothing to think about, because it would never happen, and for good reason, he reminds himself. Lots of them, really, so right, he's not even going to consider it, he decides, finally heading out to join the rest of the locker room for a while, watch the show. (He convinces himself that it's not because he kind of hopes to run into Colby lurking somewhere so they can talk alone before they have to go hang out with the entire group tonight, because there is  _nothing to think about_.)

 

**III**

 

Except he does think about it, a lot. Can't help it, really, especially with the way he hadn't noticed until this moment  _right here_  just how comfortable they've gotten in one another's personal space. John had superconveniently bailed on their plans for the evening when they figured out Cody couldn't come, leaving Randy and Colby alone to hole up in the older's hotel room, racking up a ridiculous room service bill and arguing over what movies to watch. Currently, they're a little over halfway through one of the Harry Potter movies (Randy forgets which one they've made it to, having had them forced upon him by the younger the instant he'd figured out Randy'd hadn't seen any past the first), and the high flyer is pretty much completely zoned out, pressed right up against the Viper where they sit propped up by the headboard. Randy's arm has somehow become perched on the younger's shoulder, fingers subconsciously toying with the hair at the base of his neck, and Colby almost leans into it, eyes transfixed on the screen. Every once in a while, he reaches across the Viper's lap to grab more food off the plate on his other side, accidentally brushing against Randy's abs occasionally as he does.

It's not until one of the light brushes sends an unintentional shiver up the older's spine that it hits him: he's hard. Almost painfully hard, and Colby has been  _this close_  to discovering it the entire time. The movement, however, disturbs the younger enough to make him look up at Randy, shoot him a confused look, and all he can do is shrug, because honestly,  _he_  doesn't even know what's got him so worked up, on edge. Surely, it's not the young aerialist next to him, right? Colby just offers him an amused smile, shaking his head a bit, but not looking away, some of his hair falling from behind his ear in the process. As Randy leans slightly closer to tuck it back, Colby exhales, breath ghosting across the older's face, and Randy realizes that if he tilts his head forward just enough, he could probably catch Colby's lips in a stolen kiss. The way the younger is looking at him right now, he almost thinks he could actually get away with it, too.

Just as he's about to throw caution to the wind, curiosity finally,  _finally_  getting the better of him, there's a loud commotion on the TV screen and Colby startles, eye snapping open wide. Their close proximity seems to settle over him a moment later, because then the boy is nearly jumping away from Randy so fast, it's like he's been burned, almost falling off the bed entirely. Randy reaches out unthinking and grabs his wrist, balances him again at the last second, and suddenly, Colby's wide eyes are focused completely on that point of contact. Randy reluctantly lets go of him in the same second that the high flyer moves to tug the wrist back, neither of them looking at one another.

What feels like hours pass, but it can't be longer than a few seconds judging by the noise drifting from the TV speakers, before they're both finally turning to face each other, opening their mouths to speak at the same time. They both freeze, unsure of who should speak first, and Colby's eyes dart away as he licks his lips, suddenly even more nervous than he had been. The older can't help but follow the movement with his eyes, zero in on it as he repeats it subconsciously. He's so busy watching the high flyer's lips that he doesn't notice the boy staring back at him for a moment, gaze fixed on him much the same way as his own had been. When Colby realizes he's been caught, however, he fixes the Viper with a startled look once again, but this time, Randy thinks,  _fuck it_ , and dives in, hoping he hasn't read the last few minutes completely wrong.

Colby has to grab onto Randy's arms so he doesn't completely topple off the bed entirely from the force of the kiss, but he doesn't retreat, so the Viper considers it a win. The young high flyer tastes everything and nothing at all the way Randy had been imagining he would (and fuck, he realizes, maybe John's right if he's actually been imagining this, but now is  _so_  not the time to think about that), a whole lot like the food they've been eating with this hint of something sweeter the older can't quite put his finger on. Whatever it is, it intrigues Randy and he decides he wants more of it, shifting closer to the boy and trailing a quick tongue along his lower lip in an effort to do just that. Colby begins to relax against him the slightest bit, mouth falling open just enough as he edges his way closer to the older as well, and Randy almost grins into the kiss, repositioning himself a bit so that he's fully facing the younger. In the process, he manages to accidentally brush against Colby's dick, drawing a soft gasp from the boy and-  _wait a minute_ , Randy thinks _, is he hard, too?_

Randy doesn't get any more time to figure it out, because Colby seems to snap back to reality with the touch, shoving away from the older with such a force that he actually does fall off the bed this time, Randy too stunned to catch him. When the Viper leans over the edge to apologize, he's met with wide, panicked eyes that make his stomach turn. Instantly, Colby is reaching shaky hands in front of him to grab his shoes from where he'd discarded them next to the bed. Randy opens his mouth to speak, he realizes he can't find any words, torn between too many different things all at the same time. Colby is never speechless, though, even now as he struggles to tie his shoes.

"I, uh. It's late and. I just, I need to get back. Dean and Rome, y'know. They're probably wondering..." Colby trails off, jumping to his feet and stomping the right one on the ground a few times to get the shoe the rest of the way on. Randy's never seen him so flustered, fully unable to form complete sentences. He tries to stop the younger, says his name softly, but Colby just talks over him as if he hadn't heard him at all. "I'll text you later, alright?"

Then, he's gone, slamming the door a little bit too hard on the way out. Randy huffs out a loud sigh, dropping to lay on the bed instead of running after the high flyer, who's left his jacket, he'd been in such a rush. No chance in hell he'll be coming back to get it tonight, Randy figures. From the TV, he can hear the pretty Granger girl screaming, "You ruined  _everything!"_  and currently, he'd really have to agree.

 

**XXXXX**

 

Colby winces at how loudly the door sounds when he shuts it, especially for the incredibly late hour. He hadn't really meant to slam the damn thing, but he's just so frazzled. He can't for the life of him wrap his head around the fact that he's hard, again, but this time it's actually from  _kissing Randy_ , and Jesus, how the fuck had that even happened? He's making his way hurriedly to the elevator, ready to just be back in his own room forgetting the last fifteen minutes ever happened, when one of the doors is yanked open right as he passes it.

"Y'know, asshole, some of us are trying to- holy fucking shit." a way-too-familiar voice shouts behind him, trailing off the second realization dawns on them as to who they're yelling at. "Colby?"

Colby barely keeps from cringing when Phil says his name, pulling himself to a halt. He wants to cry when he realizes he must have left his jacket in Randy's room, and  _no way_  is he going back to get it now, so he's got nothing to hide his erection with. Praying his friend simply won't notice, he turns to greet Phil with a near-nervous smile.

"Hey. What's up?" he offers, giving the older a small, shy wave as a means of distraction. Phil's not having it, though, smirking as he drops to lean against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest.

"Not a whole lot. I just came out here to bitch at Orton, and instead I get you." Phil replies with a curious look to match the smirk. Colby swallows against how dry his throat has suddenly become, trying not to look as guilty as he feels, especially as his friend looks over his whole face, takes in his disheveled hair, red cheeks, the ragged breaths slipping from kiss-swollen lips. Then Phil, all tact, asks, "So, are you two...?"

"What? No! No way! Wh-why would you think...?" Colby practically squawks, and he's pretty confident that that's the least masculine he's ever sounded. Phil just laughs, though, shakes his head at the younger.

"You're right, my bad. If you were fucking, I'd hope he at least wouldn't let you leave with a hard-on." the older says, and the high flyer can't stop the groan that comes out at the words, which only makes Phil laugh harder.

For a moment, Colby wishes that a hole could somehow spring up out of the ground and swallow him whole just so that tonight wouldn't have even mattered. He can barely process what's happened, much less think of a way to handle any of it. For now, he tries to ignore it, moves to slip away down the hall the rest of the way to the elevator while Phil attempts to gather himself. He only makes it two steps before the older is calling his name, halting him again.

"Colby, hey, no, wait, I'm sorry!" Phil exclaims, making Colby turn back to at least hear his friend out. He hopes the conversation is brief, though, especially now that the older is visibly aware of his uncomfortable situation. "Seriously, though, why not?"

And that one's new, the high flyer raising an eyebrow as he asks, "Excuse me? I thought you hated Randy?"

"I mean, I'm not especially fond of the guy, but I feel like if you're going to be sneaking around with someone at all hours of the night, and leaving their room with a- I'll say it-  _raging_  boner, you might as well at least stick around long enough to have sex with them. Or get off  _somehow_ , geez." Phil explains to him, and Colby sucks in a breath, shakes his head at the  _thought_  of it.

"No way. I am  _not_  talking to you about this." Colby says, about-facing and finally heading toward the elevator. He tosses over his shoulder as he tries to flee, "And I am  _not_  fucking Randy Orton!"

Phil outright howls with laughter at this, almost doubling over in an effort to catch his breath. Before Colby has a chance to make it all the way to the elevator doors, the older calls after him, "I'd at least consider it! Maybe you wouldn't be so damn uptight!"

" _Fuck you_ , Phil!" Colby fires back, mashing his thumb down on the button repeatedly, as if it will make the damn thing come faster.

Thankfully, his friend decides to give him a break, turning and heading back into his own hotel room. The elevator dings a moment later, and he steps inside, resting his face against the doors the second they're shut. The cool metal is a sharp contrast to his overly flushed face, almost certain he's never been so embarrassed. He can't believe he kissed Randy. He can't believe Phil caught him coming out of Randy's room. He can only hope now that Dean and Roman have already exhausted themselves so that he doesn't have even  _more_  explaining to do. Either way, he thinks as he exits the elevator on his floor, at least Phil managed to kill his erection.


	5. Sugar, We're Going Down

_~Am I more than you bargained for yet?_   
_I've been dying to tell you anything you want to hear,_   
_'Cause that's just who I am this week_

_I'll be your number one with a bullet_   
_A loaded God complex,_   
_Cock it and pull it.~_

 

Of course, when Colby wakes up the next morning, he's still beyond freaked out about the events of the night before. It had taken him entirely too long to fall asleep, the taste of Randy still so fresh that every time he'd closed his eyes, he'd wound up right back in that moment, arms riddled with art hot under his hands. Now, even with a new dawn upon him, he can't seem to get the images out of his head, no matter how hard he tries. And he does try, rubbing his fists roughly over his eyes as if to try and physically force the thoughts out. It doesn't work, though, just leaves him with a sore face, and he curses to himself, rolling over to bury his face in the pillow with a groan. There's no possible way he can face Randy like this, he thinks, huffing out a sigh. So, he makes an executive decision: until he gets past these idiotic feelings, he just won't talk to Randy at all. Surely, that'll work, he convinces himself. It  _has_  to.

 

**XXXXX**

 

"You!" Randy snaps the second John enters their locker room before their next house show, pointing an accusing finger at him for added emphasis.

"Me!" John replies loudly, pointing at himself even as he turns wide eyes on his friend.

"I  _knew_  better than to listen to you, John. I knew it, and I did it anyway! My stupid fucking idiot fucking friend!" Randy exclaims, glaring at Cena as he storms over to him, trying to stare him down. The Viper accuses, "Everything's  _fucked_ , and it's all your fucking fault!"

"Me?" John says again, shoving the younger back this time and fixing him with a glare instead. He asks, "And just what in the hell did  _I_  do?"

At this, Randy huffs out a sigh, deciding to pace the length of the locker room instead of getting into an immediate physical altercation with his friend. He mutters as he paces, mostly to himself, "No, no, you're right. It's  _my_  fault. That's what I get for  _listening_  to my  _stupid fucking idiot fucking friend_. Christ, what was I thinking?"

"Whoa. Care to tell me what the hell you're freaking out about, or should I just leave you alone to have your meltdown?" John inquires of his companion, taking Randy by the shoulders in an effort to still his movements. The younger refuses to meet his eyes, however, blushing and growling to himself as he stares at the ground. John raises an eyebrow, questioning, "This about Colby?"

And that at least gets more of a response, Randy shrugging John's hands off of him so that he can cross his arms over his chest, scowl settling on his face. John barely restrains himself from smirking at the movement. After a long, silent moment, Randy finally mutters, frustration etched into his features, "I kissed him, and now he won't fucking talk to me again."

"Wait, what?" John freezes, turning wide eyes on his companion. He half-demands, "Like, kissed him-kissed him, or like, mouth-raped him?"

"What the-  _mouth-raped_? Really, John?" the younger half-sighs, exhasperated look fixed onto John now.

"You know what I mean." Cena fires back. He amends himself, "Did he kiss you back? Or was this just you accosting him?"

The Viper does sigh now, rolling his eyes and shooting his friend a glare before going back to pacing. He replies, " _Of course_  he kissed me back. What kind of guy do you think I am?"

John clears his throat in lieu of answering, crossing his own arms over his broad chest. Randy stops in place, groaning and glaring back at the older man.

"Christ,  _really_? Fuck you, John. Can we please focus on the actual problem here instead of just your imagined ones? Shit." Randy almost snarls, storming back over to stand in front of his friend.

"Okay, okay, sheesh. Relax." John tells the younger, and it seems as if Randy finally starts to. After a moment, John instructs him, "Now, tell me what happened."

"Well, now I don't want to." Randy grumbles, petulant look painted onto his face as he fixes his eyes upon the ground instead of the older.

John throws his arms up in defeat, going back to getting his clothes out of his bag for the night as he snaps, "Forget it, then! You're fucking impossible!"

When the Legend Killer himself lets out a sound that's strikingly close to a whine, John stops what he's doing immediately, sitting back and turning to his friend with a curious look. The younger man actually looks upset by this whole thing, moreso than John had expected him to. He exhales slowly, causing Randy to shift his gaze up from the floor to meet bright blue ones once more, and he looks so sad that John can't help but ask him once more what's happened here.

"I kissed him, John. I kissed him, and he kissed me back, but then he got so scared, he fell off the damn bed and ran out of the room like it was on fire. And now,  _now_  he won't talk to me!" Randy explains near desperately, dropping all the way down to sit on the floor next to the older. His eyes turn back to the ground as he mutters, "I fucked up, and I went too far, and I pushed away the one new friend I'd actually managed to find in a long fucking time. I can't believe I'm such an  _idiot_."

And this actually does make John feel like a little bit of a dick, frowning as he focuses on the armband in his hand instead of his friend. He certainly doesn't feel like he's been reading Colby the wrong way, but maybe he has and maybe the kid is just over-affectionate by nature, and if that's the case, then he's single-handedly managed to fuck up a really good friendship for Randy, and that is just not okay. He barely stops the sigh that threatens to slip out before he's looking back at the Viper, trying to force a confident look on his face.

"I'm sure you haven't pushed him away completely, man. He's probably just a little stunned." John tries, trying even harder for a smile, before he offers, "Look, I'll go talk to him and tell him the whole damn thing is my fault, and we'll settle this whole mess and get things back to normal."

"No!" Randy exclaims, wide, panicked eyes snapping up to meet John's, his arms even shooting up in front of him in a completely defensive posture. "No, John, seriously, you can't do that. You have no idea how much worse that will make things."

"Worse than not talking at all?" John asks, and Randy groans once more.

" _Yes!_  John! You don't get it. You  _cannot_  just show up at his locker to talk to him. Seriously.  _Please_." Randy returns, almost pleading, and the older can't help but cough out a laugh.

He pats his companion on the head where he sits on the floor before tugging on the armband he'd been toying with and rising from his seat, Randy making a distressed noise as he turns to face the door.

"You're so cute when you're actually nervous about something." he tells Randy with a grin, ignoring the panic in his friend as the younger practically leaps up off the floor, squawking his name in protest even as he sets his hand on the door handle. He almost smirks at Randy as he says, "Don't worry, Randy. I'll fix  _everything_."

Then, he's exiting the room entirely, letting the door slip shut behind him and just knowing that Randy won't follow. The Viper knows how hard it is to talk John out of something once he's decided fully upon it, and this is definitely one of those occasions. As he tries to find a crew member who might,  _maybe_ , know where the Shield is for the night, he mentally crosses his fingers that this isn't the horrible idea that Randy seems to think it is, and that somehow, he'll be able to keep his promise to his best friend.

 

**XXXXX**

 

The amused look on Dean's face is the only thing that even partially quells Colby's nausea as his friend informs him that John Cena is at their locker room door asking for him. He bites back a sigh and storms over to the door, ignoring the way Dean is trying his damndest not to laugh hysterically as he yanks the door from the older's hand. Sure as shit, there's John, standing there in the doorway with his wide John Cena grin, and Colby instantly wants to punch him in his stupid, smiling face.

He doesn't even bother telling his friends he's leaving, just takes a firm hold of Cena's wrist as he walks out the door, commanding that the older follow him down the hall and away from the thin door separating the two of them from Dean and Roman. Whatever John has come to talk to him about, it almost certainly has to do with Randy, and while John Cena had been a laugh riot for Dean to encounter, finding out just how much he's been hanging out with Randy Orton might not go over quite as well. Either way, today is not the day that he plans to find out. Once he gets what he considers to be a safe enough distance away, he releases the other's wrist, spinning to face him and fixing him with a solid glare.

"What the fuck is your problem, huh? Both of you guys! I already told Randy, you can't just show the fuck up here! Now, what the fuck do you want?" Colby nearly cries out, too frustrated to even stop himself.

Cena regards him with a wide eyed, stunned expression that quickly melts to a much more serious one as the older crosses his arms over his chest.

"You want to try that again, Colby?" John asks him, voice calm and even in spite of the younger's rage.

Colby lets his eyes slip closed, taking a slow, deep breath and clenching and unclenching his fists in an effort to bring himself back down as well. When he exhales, he tries to let go of some of the stress of the moment with it, and it seems to work. John's still waiting patiently when his eyes finally open, so he does as the older said and begins again, sheepish look settling onto his face.

"I'm sorry, John. I'm just dealing with a whole lot right now and I'm not really sure how to handle any of it." he says, hoping Cena will leave it at that, go back to his initial reason for finding him all the way in the basement of the arena.

Of course he doesn't get that lucky, because then Cena inquires, "This about Randy kissing you?"

The younger feels his eyes open wider than he thinks they've ever opened, a tingling, panicked feeling spreading over his whole body as he stills. He'd been so busy worrying about how to handle the kiss with Randy that he hadn't even considered that the older man would  _tell his fucking friends_. But  _of course_  he did, and now John's come to tell him to back the fuck off, or whatever kind of threatening thing the older could possibly throw at him for messing around with his very male friend. Quickly, he makes a nervous attempt at defending himself.

"Fuck, he told you about that? Christ. Look, tha-that wasn't anything like what you think it was, seriously-" Colby tries to explain all in a rush, face heating up in utter embarrassment. Thankfully, John saves him from rambling anymore by cutting him off with a laugh, arms dropping away from his chest as he relaxes a bit.

"Whoa, hey, relax. What I think it was is a bad call that came from some poorly given advice, and for that, I came to apologize." John says, and Colby freezes again, because wait,  _what_? Too stunned to even respond, he lets the older continue, "It seems I misread some signals off of you, and I told Randy to make some moves that, in hindsight, were a bad idea, since you're evidently pretty freaked out by the whole thing, and I'm sorry for that."

"I'm not really freaked out, exactly." Colby replies without thinking, and instantly regrets it, a too-curious look fall over John's features.

"No?" Cena questions, hint of a smile beginning to turn up the corners of his lips.

"No," he tells the older honestly, figuring the damage has already been done. He fumbles for an excuse for the lack of communication, but the only thing he can come up with is, "I'm just...dealing with a lot."

The words sound just as lame as they did the first time, and Colby wishes he could groan at himself, but all that would accomplish is furthering this portrait of an idiot he's painting of himself in front of his co-worker (and friend?), so he stifles the urge. He feels awkward despite John's growing grin, almost squirming under the gaze. This is definitely not a conversation he'd ever expected to have today, and now he's completely unsure how to feel about it other than guilty, especially when John starts up again.

"I get that. We all go through some rough patches, especially in this industry. Randy was just pretty upset that you aren't talking to him again, and I feel terrible about it, so I figured I'd come let you know that really, this whole mess is my fault, so if you're upset in any way, it should be at me." the older says, running a nervous hand over the back of his head.

And this just makes Colby feel even worse, because really, his avoidance of the Viper couldn't have less to do with John, no matter what advice he may or may not have given his friend. Before he has a chance to tell the older any of this, however, Cena is letting out a slow breath, speaking once again.

"The thing is, Randy has kind of a reputation for being a pretty big asshole, which, I'm sure is why your friends aren't exactly privy to you guys' friendship." John begins, and it almost feels like an accusation, though Colby's sure that's just his own emotions taking over. He continues, "But, despite having to keep it so hush-hush, you're honestly one of the better friends he's managed to find around here in the last few years. At the very least, you've stuck around longer, and you seem to be a nice enough kid. You've made a good addition to our little group lately, believe it or not. I'd just hate to think that I was the one who fucked that up, especially for Randy."

"You didn't fuck anything up. Either one of you." Colby says instantly, Cena's honesty hitting him harder than anticipated. He lets out a slow sigh, trying to exhale the overwhelming guilt with it. There's really only one way to fix this, he figures, so he tells John, "Don't worry. I'll talk to him."

"Yea?" John questions hopefully, perking up in a way that reminds the younger of his dog back home, and Colby can't help the smile that begins to finally take over his face at the thought.

"Yea," he replies, "I will. I shouldn't have just blown him off like that. I'm really not mad or anything."

"Good. That's great. I-thank you, Colby, seriously. This means a lot to him. To me. Both of us." the older nearly exclaims, excitement evidently making it difficult, for once, for Cena to find the right words. It makes Colby smile even wider, laugh the slightest bit. It's just a conversation, he thinks, but he can't stop the feeling that's something like excitement beginning to pool in his own stomach, as well.

"It's no big deal." Colby tells John honestly. Then, "I'll talk to him tonight, promise."

"Perfect. Seriously, thank you. For talking to him again, and for taking this all so well, and...I dunno, for being an alright friend. You're a good kid, Colby." John informs him, rubbing a quick hand over the high flyer's shoulder. Then, he's clapping the hand down so hard, it almost takes the younger off his feet. As Colby regains his breath, John says, "Well, I'm opening Raw tonight, so I'm gonna head out. Thanks again, though, man."

"Yea, no problem." Colby says, even as John begins to head back the way he came, almost jogging with how late he is.

Colby huffs out a real sigh now, dropping to lean against the wall for a moment, gather his thoughts. He can't believe the mess tonight has managed to turn into. He should have known better than to try and avoid any situation involving Randy Orton. It's never worked in the past, if anything, had the opposite effect, so why the hell he'd ever expected it to work now is beyond him. Regardless, he's promised to stop avoiding the problem and actually handle it, and it seems that really, that's the only option left, anyway. And, he figures, now is as good a time as any to go ahead and get that talk out of the way, too many open excuses to get out of an awkward conversation ready and available at his disposal. So, he pushes himself off the wall with a light noise, turning and heading back toward his locker room to at least reassure Dean and Roman that Cena hasn't killed him before he goes about his business. Of course, Dean is still smirking when he opens the door.

"So, uh, what'd  _John Cena_  want to talk to you about?" his friend asks immediately, nearly vibrating with his amusement.

"He's one of those people I didn't think you'd like that I've been hanging out with sometimes. He just wanted to know my opinion on something." the high flyer replies, opting for something at least moderately close to the truth. Dean nods as if he completely agrees, he's not exactly a Cena fan. Before he can ask any more questions, Colby continues almost anxiously, "But, ah, I have some business I need to take care of? So I'll see you guys by the stairs for our entrance in a little while, okay?"

In order to avoid having to try to explain things that he just doesn't want to get into with either of his friends right now, he slips back out the door before either of them can say another word. Unsurprisingly, the Viper's locker room isn't hard to find, even without any form of assistance (the last thing he needs is people to find out he's actually  _looking_  for Randy. He's been embarrassed enough for the day, thanks). Not only is Randy's logo printed as large as possible with his name on a sheet of paper, but Cena's monstrocity of a logo is right next to it, bright as can be.  _That explains a lot_ , Colby thinks, unable to fight the laugh that bubbles up in him at the sight. Ridiculous though it may be, he's thankful for the awkward display, because it at least manages to calm some of his nerves about the ever-nearing conversation. Finally, he takes a deep breath, and quickly, so he can't change his mind, he knocks on the door.

Randy always seems to have difficulty hiding his emotions around Colby, and today is no exception, a completely shocked look falling over his features for a brief moment before he manages to rein it in. His voice is slightly higher than normal when he says the younger's name, and Colby only barely manages not to laugh out loud again. It's only Randy's embarrassed expression that quickly follows that stops him, makes him wave awkwardly instead.

"Hey." he says, trying for a reassuring smile.

"Hi." Randy replies, barely masking the astonishment that he's very clearly still feeling. He coughs, clears his throat before he's speaking again, fiddling around with his hands as he nearly mutters, "I, uh. I guess John came to see you after all?"

"Yea, he did. He had to get to the ring, though, so I figured I'd go ahead and come see you." Colby affirms, watching the older's face color at the words.

Randy scrubs a hand over his face sheepishly before turning a near grimace on the high flyer, exclaiming in an almost frustrated tone, "Shit, look, I am  _so_  fucking sorry about that. I told him you hate people just showing up at your room like that, but John doesn't ever listen to a fucking word I say, so of  _course_  he did it anyway, dammit. I'm sorry, Colby, really."

"It's okay, honestly. I'm not mad. Just," Colby says, looking around nervously as he rocks back and forth on his feet before asking, "Can I come in, or do we really have to talk about all of this out in the hallway?"

"Oh! Shit! Yea, come in, please." Randy jumps, realizing his mistake and stepping to the side, gesturing at the younger for him to enter. He apologizes again as he closes and locks the door, "My bad. I've kind of been all over the place lately."

"Yea, John mentioned that." the high flyer tells him, and Randy curses softly.

"Big-mouthed motherfucker." the Viper says under his breath, scowling for a moment. Then, he's turning back to Colby, "Again, I'm really sorry he showed up unannounced like that. I know you said it's okay, but-"

"That's because it is, seriously." the younger replies, cutting Randy off. He says quickly, words pouring out before he can properly process them, "He shouldn't have had to do it in the first place. I shouldn't have been ignoring you like that. It was a pretty dick move. I mean we just...kissed."

It's like the energy in the room completely changes at the word, becoming electric in a way it definitely hadn't been before. The intensity of it makes Colby drop his eyes away from Randy's blues, turn to where he's begun to play with his own hands now. The silence that stretches between them is almost painful, neither of them really knowing how to continue from here. Finally, Colby opens his mouth and just speaks, anything to stop this awful quiet.

He's almost too honest as he says, "I mean, it's not like you're the first guy I've ever kissed. And it wasn't...bad."

Colby trails off as he looks back at Randy once again and finds the older watching him carefully, way too curious expression on his face. The young aerialist swallows thickly as the older asks, "It wasn't?"

"No," Colby shakes his head a bit, "It just, ah. It threw me off, is all. But seriously, it's just a kiss. It's not really a big deal, right?"

At this, Randy seems to falter the slightest bit, and Colby's stomach tightens at the sight of it, worried for a moment that he said the wrong thing. But then, Randy is agreeing, nodding along with it, and Colby can't help but nod, too.

"Cool." he says, even if he doesn't completely mean it.

Another silence blankets the room, this one just as awkward, but less painfully uncomfortable. Colby looks away again, eyes focused on his shoes this time, toeing at a scuff on the floor, trying to scrape it off. He's so fixated on his task that when Randy speaks again, he startles, turning wide eyes on the older.

"So, uh, what else did John tell you?" Randy asks, and Colby can't help but smirk. If the Viper is just going to tell his friend  _everything_  without so much as a warning to Colby, he figures he can mess with the older man a little bit in return. He pretends to ponder the question momentarily before responding.

"Well, he mentioned you can be a pretty big asshole, but I already knew that." Colby begins, finally beginning to move closer to his friend instead of standing nearly across the room, and Randy rolls his eyes, scoffs.

"I bet he did. Dick." Randy spits out, crossing his arms over his chest in something like a pout. Colby actually does laugh now, dropping to lean against the wall next to where the older is finally finishing up preparing for the rest of tonight's taping. The Viper starts shuffling through his locker almost as a distraction as he questions, "Anything else?"

"He did say you were pretty torn up about me not talking to you." the high flyer says, almost cocky now, and Randy's glad his head is still buried in his locker, because he can  _feel_  the blush beginning to spread across his cheeks.  _Of course_  that asshole told the kid that, he thinks.

"I dunno that I'd say I was torn up." Randy coughs out, refusing to face Colby as he speaks. "Mildly concerned, maybe."

"Oh yea? Well, he felt pretty guilty about the whole thing for you to just be mildly concerned." Colby fires back, and Randy can hear skepticism and something like mockery in his tone. It's enough to make him pull his head out of the locker, turn a look that's just as curious as the high flyer's back upon him.

"What was he feeling so guilty about? I thought I was the one who kissed you?" the Viper brings back up the source of the conflict once more as he stands, takes a step closer into Colby's space, hoping to rattle the boy enough for him to regain the upper hand in this conversation. It doesn't work, though, and Randy mentally curses as Colby simply shrugs.

"I dunno. He said something about giving you some bad advice about me? That he read some signals off of me wrong, and told you some moves to make based on that?" Colby starts, and Randy almost freezes completely. He feels oddly in the spotlight as the younger speaks, like he's being called out in the middle of the ring, only much more personal (much more terrifying, though Randy will  _never_  voice that thought, barely wants to think it). It's like Colby knows he has something of an advantage now, too, Randy almost sweating in front of him despite the facade of intimidation he manages to maintain, and Colby's determined to leave the Viper on the spot like this. Now, he's the one taking an extra step into the other's space, smirking as he continues, "Now, I dunno what he thought he read from me, but if he's giving you advice on how to deal with it, then I can only assume that that means there was some evidence from  _you_  for him to go off, too."

And Randy has no idea where the kid is going with any of this, but he finds himself entirely too eager to find out, cocking an eyebrow at the boy and shooting him a sideways grin.

"Is that so?" he asks, and Colby nods, hums his affirmation. Randy coughs out half a laugh, questions, "And just what is it that you think he picked up from me, hmm?"

There's that shrug again, still so full of confidence that all Randy wants to do is shake him up. He has no clue how the young aerialist has managed to remain so cocky during this whole conversation, but he assumes it has to do with how easily the kiss was dismissed, leaving Colby free to ignore it and act the same as they always have. Randy's the only one apparently picking up on the changes, the way Colby breathes faster now when he's this close, the light flush taking over his skin tone at the mere mention of the kiss, his ever-darkening pupils. He can act unaffected all he wants, Randy thinks, but his body betrays him. Randy only notices the differences, however, because he's experiencing the same things, having to actually put effort into not gasping when he breathes, and he crosses his fingers that his nerves aren't actually making him sweat. When Colby smirks, replies to his inquiry with a smug, "You tell me. Do you secretly want to fuck me, Randy?", the Viper can't even stop himself.

"I thought you'd never ask, kid." Randy breathes.

Before Colby can react, he's grabbing the high flyer's shoulders tightly and slamming him back against the wall he was just leaning on. Colby gasps the second Randy's lips as on his once again, and the older wastes no time today, his tongue diving into Colby's mouth and finding his own. He feels the younger nearly melt in his arms at the touch, Colby kissing back with just as much fervor as his fingers glide up Randy's arms to cling tightly to grey and black shoulders. Randy releases his grip on the aerialists's own shoulders to travel up to his face, holding on just rough enough to pull Colby closer, drag him in deeper. As Randy bites down softly, tugs on the boy's lower lip a bit, Colby releases a noise that's a cross between a sigh and a moan, a sound that Randy swallows as he dips back in for another full kiss. He's just letting Colby finally take the lead, timid tongue just made it into his mouth, when the locker room door handle rattles, quickly followed by a loud knock that makes them both freeze, lips still locked.

"Randy? We need you to film a promo real quick!" a crew member calls from the other side of the door, and Randy breaks away with a groan, turning his face barely toward the door the respond.

"Okay, fine! I'll be out in a minute!" he snaps.

Then, he's turning back to Colby with a soft sigh, dropping his forehead to rest against the younger's and closing his eyes for a beat as if to gather himself. After a moment, he opens them again, locking onto Colby's own and finally releasing his hold on the boy's face to trail one hand down to his shoulder, the other up into his hair. He gives Colby's face a quick once-over, taking in his now completely disheveled, flustered appearance with something like satisfaction. The high flyer's face is bright red, mouth open and lips glistening as he struggles to catch his breath, regain some semblance of composure. Knowing that he has regained the upper hand, Randy offers Colby a grin, and a wink. He might as well take advantage of the moment, he thinks.

"I have to go. But, you should really consider that offer you made, and whether or not you meant it. Could be a good time." Randy tells him, and Colby has no idea what to even say that, very visibly stunned by everything that's gone on. Randy's grin just widens and he drops another quick, chaste kiss onto the younger's lips before he's pushing himself away, heading toward the door. Before he exits, he says, "Seriously, text me about it later on and we'll talk. Or wait for me after Raw. Whichever. I'll catch you later, kid."

And with one last near beaming smile, Randy's gone, letting the door almost slam shut behind him. Colby slides down the wall to sit against it, legs shaking too badly to hold him up anymore. The last five minutes run through his head on a continuous loop, like and animated .gif online, playing over and over and over again. He drops his face into his hands, tries desperately to catch his breath, but it's hard, too many emotions hitting him all at once.  _Randy Orton_ wants to  _fuck him_? He thinks,  _this can't be real life_. But it is, and now he has a whole new problem to deal with. He's unsure of how exactly he's going to handle this situation, where the hell to even go from here, but one thing, he's completely certain of: he is, once again, very,  _very_  turned on.


	6. C'mon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: So originally this chapter took a ridiculously long time to write because this scene, for me, is one of the big, integral scenes in the entire story. It shapes up a lot of how I feel about this pairing in general, and the tone I want to set for them for the rest of this universe, so I really, really, really wanted to get it absolutely perfect. So I been slaved over it, and ended up writing and re-writing and editing and re-editing, but now, finally, here it is! Happy Valentine's Day! :)

_~I don't wanna think about what's gonna be after this_   
_I wanna just live right now._

_Now, don't even try to deny_   
_We're both going home satisfied_   
_Let's go for it just for tonight._   
_C'mon, c'mon, c'mon.~_

 

For the fifth night in a row, Colby sits at the hotel bar, doing more staring at half-full drinks than actually drinking them. For the life of him, he just can't stop thinking about Randy fucking Orton, and the way the older had actually kissed the breath out of him, igniting emotions and feelings he'd managed to stifle all these months alone on the road. But now, he'll be damned if he's not constantly turned on, especially when his brain replays that goddamn kiss. He blames the fact that Randy is the only legitimate offer of any kind of sexual nature that he's had in as long as he can remember that wasn't from a fan. Though, when he thinks about it, Orton's not necessarily that much better. He's still kind of a mess when you get right down to it, Colby thinks, and a mess that doesn't have the best reputation. But if he's really honest with himself, much as he hates to be, the reputation is really the only thing that's keeping him at bay at this point. Beyond that, he has to admit, the Viper has shocked him, turning out to be so much more human than Colby ever expected, and for some reason, he can't help but be at least slightly attracted. Randy's, well...almost charming, he thinks, and he can feel his face heat up at the thought. He'd even been fairly classy when it came to handling the initial proposal of sex, the high flyer reminds himself, thinking back to the text messages that had flooded his phone before he'd even made it back to the hotel Monday after Raw.

( _Sorry if I came off too forward earlier._

_But the offer still stands if you really meant it._

_The offer to have sex, I mean._

_It doesn't even have to be anything. Just sex._

_Think about it and let me know._ )

And suddenly, it's like there's nothing else in the world that he  _can_  think about, images of Randy somehow consuming his entire life. It certainly hasn't helped at all that they've been working together so much in recent storylines, leaving them constantly rolling all over each other in the ring, hands grabbing all over tanned bodies as if they're  _already_  having sex. How is he  _not_  to be completely focused on it?, he wonders, taking another small sip from the glass in front of him. Which, unfortunately, is why he finds himself sitting here by himself at the bar, nursing the same drink he's been working on for more than an hour now, while all of his co-workers are either celebrating their wins, mourning their losses, or helping someone do one of the two from Payback.

Yet, here he sits, all alone despite his own win (over Randy, of all people, Christ), still contemplating an offer made to him almost a week ago. This is  _so_  not how he expected to spend the night of his big win after a pay-per-view. He huffs out a sigh, eyes staring unfocused at his drink once again.  _Fuck it_ , he thinks, downing the rest of it before dropping more than enough on the bar in front of him to cover his minimal amount of drinks for the night. He  _shouldn't_  be spending the night distracted and moping. He should be celebrating, with his friends, he decides. He swings the seat around the face the opposite direction, burping as he pushes himself from the stool. As he makes his way to the elevators, room key already in hand, he tells himself he's just going to go to his room, break open the mini-bar, and celebrate a successful evening with his  _best friends_. And he won't think of Randy Orton a single time.

In theory, it sounds like a great plan. In practice, Colby finds, it's a  _terrible_  idea, especially when he considers that his two  _best friends_  happen to also be in a  _relationship_ , and might want to celebrate their title defenses tonight in ways that definitely  _don't_  involve their youngest teammate. Naturally, this thought doesn't occur to Colby until the high flyer slides his key into the lock and opens the door of their shared hotel room.

" _Oh my Gooodddd_ , Rome,  _please_ , just  _fuck me already_ , Christ!" Dean nearly screams, and it's a wonder that Colby can even make it all out, because it's practically all one word.

His head is thrown back on the pillow in what looks like an almost uncomfortable position to the young aerialist, fingers threaded so tightly into Roman's curls that Colby thinks for a second it's going to come right out from the root. But then, Roman is laughing from his place between Dean's thighs, and the blonde almost  _whines_ , and Colby slams the door much harder than he intends to as he retreats from the room.  _So much for a team celebration_ , he thinks, blushing as he hurries off down the hall. He scrolls quickly through his phone's contact list, trying to think of something else to do, some other means of a distraction. When his finger lands on Bryan's name, he decides to hit 'call', knowing that, at the very least, he and Phil won't be out drinking somewhere. And, he figures as a light smirk finally crosses his face, he can make it up to Bryan for beating him to retain the belts. It takes a few rings before Bryan eventually answers, but when he does, he sounds completely breathless.

"U-Uh, hello?" the older wrestler answers the phone, practically  _panting_  when he says it.

And Colby wants to curse at himself, almost sure of what he's interrupting.  _Is_ everyone  _getting laid tonight but me?_  he thinks in frustration. Still, somewhat desperately, he tries, "Hey, Bryan. What are you up to? I felt bad for you missing out on another title shot because of me, and Dean and Roman are a bit...preoccupied, so I was wondering if I could swing by and hang out? Figure out a way to make it up to you?"

"Oh, hey, Colby! Th-that'd ah...AH!" the older whines loudly, head turned away from the phone at the end, and Colby barely stops a wince when Bryan cries out. He actually does wince when he hears Phil snicker in the background, right by the phone, because  _of course_  everyone is getting laid but him. But Bryan, the trooper, makes an effort to continue, "That'd be great, but uhm. I'm, ah-  _stop it, Phil!_ -I'm a little busy right now? So maybe I could take a rain check on that.  _Phil, FUCK!_ "

Colby definitely can't deny the momentary chill that runs up his spine at the sound, especially after what he's just encountered in his own hotel room. Somehow, he manages to bite back a vocal curse, clenching his fist at his side instead as he apologizes, hangs up the phone call. Groaning, he slumps against the hallway wall, trying to ignore his ever-growing hard-on as he returns to picking through his contacts. This becomes an even more difficult task when he lands on Randy's name, finger halting the scrolling motion almost reflexively. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice (and Colby's not sure if it's the liquor or his sexual frustration) tells him that he  _could_  be having sex if he wanted to, too. The answer to his current troubles are a mere text message away. And really, Randy's not  _that_  bad of an option. And it is just sex, sex that he kind of, sort of,  _really fucking needs_  right now...

He types out a text, sending it before he has a chance to regret it.  _Here goes nothing_ , he thinks.

 

**XXXXX**

 

_**Colby** _   
_Does that offer still stand?_

Randy sits up in bed immediately as the real meaning of the message drifts over him. He almost has to physically swallow his nerves as he swipes over the button to call the younger in response instead, not trusting himself to reply in a text. It's only a couple of rings before Colby answers, and Randy is speaking before he can even get a word out.

"Do you really mean that?" he asks.

"Just sex, right?" Colby replies, almost more nervous than Randy's ever heard him.

"Yea, definitely. Just sex. Nothing you aren't a hundred percent okay with." the Viper tells him, trying to ease the boy's fears a bit.

"Alright. Then yea. Yes, I mean it." Colby says, voice suddenly much more sure.

"Right now?" Randy confirms.

"Right now." the high flyer repeats. Then, hurriedly, "Unless you're busy right now. It's fine, everyone else is. We can just resche-"

"No, I'm not busy. Just sitting bored in my room." Randy interjects before the boy has a chance to reconsider and back out. He adds quickly, "852. Come on up."

It's not until Colby has agreed and hung up the phone that it hits Randy:  _Shit, this is really happening_. This thing, this moment he's subconsciously been picturing constantly in every which way, this moment  _right here_ , it's real, and it's happening, and he has  _no idea_  what to do. Mind racing, he struggles to pick out a single thought, focus on just one thing.  _First things first_ , he thinks,  _preparation_. And fuck, does he even still  _have_  any lube?, he wonders. He scrambles off the bed, hitting his knees a little too roughly as he drops next to his bag. Near frantically, he digs through his things, hoping his accidental abstinance as of late hasn't caused him to get rid of  _all_  his lube. Two bags down, he's ready to give up hope when his hand closes around a small bottle in the very bottom crevice of his gym bag. Randy swears he hears angels sing when he pulls it out, never been so excited about never cleaning a bag. He's just throwing the bottle onto the nightstand when the knock on his door startles him so much, he actually jumps. Momentarily, he debates pulling on a shirt before he opens the door, but then he thinks,  _why bother?_  and tugs the door open, anyway.

"Hey," Colby says immediately, a little breathless, and Randy can't fight his smirk, nerves ebbing away a bit as he takes in the boy's already slightly flushed appearance.

"Hey," he responds in kind, watching Colby's eyes trail over his topless torso and mentally patting himself on the back for his decision on that one. When the high flyer seems to freeze in the doorway, tongue trailing across his lower lip, Randy rolls his eyes and grins, snatching the younger by the shirt and dragging him into the room. He mutters almost fondly, "Get the fuck in here."

"Right! Sorry." Colby replies, settling against the wall just inside the door.

"It's fine." Randy tells him with a soft smile, shutting the door and locking everything he can. He asks the boy, "Do you want something to dri-"

But it's all he manages to get out, because the second he turns around, Colby is grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him into a heated kiss, lips attaching to his with a fierceness their other encounters had certainly been lacking. Stunned, Randy lets himself be kissed, the high flyer taking control of the situation and backing the older man up toward the bed. The Viper has just gotten the presence of mind to start really kissing Colby back, when he feels the back of his legs hit the bed. As the younger gives him a light shove to push him on to it, however, he latches on to the boy's hips, tugging Colby down with him. The sudden movement seems to throw Colby off his game as he settles startled on Randy's lap, and the older takes the moment to catch his breath. He can't help but be a bit shell-shocked by this near random turn of events, and as he attempts to process it, he lets his curiosity get the better of him.

"So what brought this on?" he asks after a beat, and Colby shrugs, avoiding his gaze, nervousness seeming to drip back onto his features one breath at a time.

"I dunno. Everyone else is having sex and celebrating a good pay-per-view, and if there's a perfectly good opportunity for me to be having sex and celebrating, too, I don't see why I shouldn't be doing it?" the younger replies, voice tipping up into a question as if he's trying to affirm that it's a good enough answer, and Randy barks out a laugh.

"That's very true." he tells his companion, simultaneously sitting up a bit and wrapping a hand around the back of Colby's neck to drag him a bit closer, bumping their foreheads together softly as they almost breathe the same air. Lowering his voice, Randy says, "I am more than willing to help you out with that."

Then, he's sealing their lips together once again, intent on doing just that. Colby kisses him back, hands falling to grip his shoulders, but the fire from before has faded out a bit, and Randy suddenly finds himself struggling to get it back. He should never have even said anything, never broken the moment like that, he thinks, mentally cursing his big fucking mouth, his nosy nature, everything that's got Colby very obviously overthinking things right now. The high flyer's movements are growing more and more hesitant, grip easing up ever so slightly on his shoulders, and he just  _knows_  the younger is going to pull back a breath before he does it. He bites back a groan when he's proven right.

"Wait," Colby says, and Randy closes his eyes as he falls back to the bed.

"Mhmm?" he questions, trying to deliver Colby's message to his erection before he makes whatever conversation they're about to have that much more awkward ( _How can the kid even_ try _to wait at a time like this?_ , he wonders). Almost frustrated, he slides his thumbs just under the fabric of the boy's shirt, rubbing circles into the skin just above his pants as a means of distraction. It seems to work, Randy cracking his eyes open and watching as Colby appears to struggle to find his words.

"We, uhm...Before we do this, we need to talk about some things." the younger begins, voice timid, and Randy grins up at him. At least he's on the right track here, he thinks.

"Oh yea? Like what?" the Viper prompts, giving the boy's hip a light pinch to get him to meet his gaze again.

"Well, like the fact that this is just sex." Colby replies with something like a glare, batting Randy's hand away from his skin.

The older takes the opportunity to snag the high flyer's shirt instead, tugging at it as if asking Colby to remove it, since this evidently isn't going to be a 'let's not do this' type of conversation. The boy scowls a bit, but lets Randy pull it up and over his head, tossing it somewhere off the side of the bed. The older takes it as a win, pressing on.

"Okay, and?" he asks, confused. He lets his hands land cautiously back on Colby's hips as he says, "We've covered this part. A few times now, even. Just sex, got it."

"No, I mean, this is  _just sex_. It's not a relationship. It's not dates. It's not sleepovers. It's just...friends with benefits, basically." Colby explains, as if it's something that hasn't quite been fully discussed before, that the older man is missing something. Randy just nods along with him like he understands completely. When the younger doesn't move to continue what they'd started, though, he begins to doubt that thought.

"So what does that mean?" the Viper finally wonders as he toys with Colby's belt almost nervously, unsure of what exactly the younger is trying to say.

"It means," Colby starts, moving to take Randy's hands off of his belt, too, but the older doesn't let him, grabbing a hand and holding onto it instead. The high flyer continues with a light blush, "that you can't tell anyone about this. It's just...I just have this thing. What I do with my dick is my business, until it becomes serious enough to have a need to tell people."

Randy sits up a bit at this, nodding as he meets the younger's eyes with a grin.

"Well, you know I'm going to at least tell John." he tells the boy, and Colby's eyes snap open wide as he yanks his hand away from the Viper to wave it around with the other one in something close to distress.

"No! You  _can't_! I'm serious, Randy, he'll tell  _everyone_!" Colby objects near frantically, Randy feeling a laugh rumble out of him at the younger's panic.

"No, he won't. I promise." Randy tries to reassure the boy, adding, "Contrary to popular belief, he does know how to keep a secret when it's important enough."

Still, Colby looks unconvinced, huffing out a soft sigh and turning to face his lap, dropping his still-trembling hands back into it as well. Randy sits up the rest of the way, taking the high flyer's hands into his again and rubbing his thumb over the back of one, almost forcing the boy to look at him. He offers Colby a soft smile, hoping to relax him enough to somehow get back to the mood they'd started this whole thing with.

"Hey," he says quietly, tone nothing but sincere, "Your friends won't find out about this, if that's what you're so worried about. I swear."

The younger shrugs again, looking almost conflicted as he mutters, "It's not just them, exactly. It's  _everyone_. I mean, no offense, but the last thing I need right now is for the whole locker room to think that any push I get is only coming as a result of...this."

It's Randy's turn to sigh now, albeit softly, but it's still enough to make Colby try to look away once more. Randy doesn't let him, though, nudging his head back into place with his own forehead and focusing on the boy's large brown eyes with a look that's beyond serious.

"Look, it's not like I need the whole locker room knowing who I'm sleeping with, either. Trust me, I have no desire to turn this into the new backstage gossip.  _No one_ will find out about this, okay?" the Viper explains, making sure the younger takes in every word.

Then, finally,  _finally_ , Colby is nodding, slowly at first, but then a bit faster, adding a soft, "Okay."

This time when Randy exhales, it's with nothing but relief, letting his eyes slip closed for a moment a smile overtakes his features. When he opens them again, Colby is actually sporting a grin as well. Randy squeezes the smaller hands still in his own, leaning back just enough to run his eyes up and down the younger's still naked torso.

"So...are we still doing this?" he gathers the courage to ask, watching the high flyer squirm ever so slightly under his gaze.

"Yea, we are." Colby replies, smile turning almost shy as he tacks on, "If you want."

"Oh, I want." Randy responds almost instantly, releasing the boy's hands in favor of grabbing onto the soft scruff on his face when he tells him, "Now, no more talking. Just kissing."

And he doesn't even give Colby a chance to respond, nearly stealing the words right out of the younger's mouth as he dives back in, attacking his lips with the same fierceness that Colby had greeted him with earlier. Now that the invitation has once again been extended, Randy is unwilling to let it slip away again, and if the way the younger man kisses him back is any sort of an indicator, he feels much the same. When Randy makes another attempt to unhook the boy's belt, Colby obliges, rolling his hips back to give the older easier access. The movement causes more friction than either of them thought, though, and Randy breaks off the kiss with a groan just as the belt snaps free from the clasps. He pushes at Colby a bit, nudging him off of his lap and the bed and following him up.

"Those, off." he says, motioning to the high flyer's pants even as he shrugs his own shorts off, kicks them to the side along with his briefs.

When he turns back to the younger, the boy seems to snap to attention, previously too distracted by his now nude companion to finish tugging off his own pants. He kicks them the rest of the way off now, blush spreading rapidly across his features as he tries to avoid the Viper's gaze. Randy can't fight a chuckle, reaching out and taking hold of naked hips to pull him into another searing kiss. This time, it's Colby who finds himself walking backward toward the bed, Randy practically throwing him back onto it when they reach the foot. Taking the hint, he scoots the rest of the way up to the headboard, Randy crawling up after him with a grin that sends a shiver up his entire body.  _This is really happening_ , he thinks, the smallest of moans slipping out as the older reclaims his lips, draping his body over the high flyer's and pressing their skin together solidly. It's not until Colby begins to subconsciouly grind up against him, hard-on brushing dangerously close to Randy's own, that it hits the the Viper just how long it's been since he's had this much contact with  _anyone_ , much less someone he was actually attracted to on any level. He tries desperately to hold it in, just keep himself together, but when the younger angles his hips  _just so_ , erection rubbing up against hard flesh, Randy breaks off the kiss with a completely unflattering noise.

"Hold on," he nearly gasps, and now Colby is the one groaning in frustration.

"Seriously?" the young aerlialist all but demands as Randy sits up in his lap this time. He shoots the older a more than displeased look as he asks, "I thought you said no more talking...?"

"Sorry, I just...It's just been a while since I've...well, hell, since I've done  _anything_  sexual with anyone. I didn't want to, uhm. Ruin it." Randy stammers, suddenly almost embarrassed as he looks at the younger.

Colby appears to be fighting a satisfied grin as he replies, "You think that's gonna be a problem?"

"I mean, maybe." Randy answers honestly, half scowling. Scooting down the high flyer's body a bit, he mutters, "Here, just let me do something."

That's all the warning he gets before Randy's swallowing him down, cock bumping roughly against the back of the older's throat, and Colby lets out a yelp that's anything but manly in the same instant that the Viper chokes. The high flyer opens his mouth to respond, check on his companion, but all that comes out is a long, low moan as Randy catches his breath and tries again, hands clamping down tightly on thick thighs to spread them for easier access. When the older man swallows around him this time, Colby gasps, one hand threading itself tightly into the sheets above his head and the other flying down to reach desperately for Randy's head. The lack of hair throws him off, though, sends him scrambling for purchase anywhere he can, hand finally landing on the back of Randy's neck and squeezing without pushing down. The vibration that Randy's laugh sends down his dick is almost too much, and Colby hears himself  _whimper_  at the feeling of it. He'd be embarrassed, he thinks, but he's too distracted by the unexpected incredible blowjob he's receiving.

Randy Orton is possibly one of the last people Colby had ever expected to give such fantastic head, the high flyer thinks, yet here he is, doing things to Colby's cock that the younger man hasn't experienced from even the most talented of female hookups. It's definitely more passionate, he realizes, hand aching from how hard he's managed to twist it into the sheet, and it's got him inching way too quickly to climax. He almost whines, hips squirming to move away from Randy's mouth as his hand moves from the older's neck to near desperately claw at his shoulder, hoping Randy will take the very obvious hint. He doesn't, though, speeding up instead and wrapping a hand around the base of the younger's cock for good measure, pumping it as well.

"R-Randy! Stop! I-I'm gonna..." Colby exclaims, digging his nails into Randy's shoulderblade in a last ditch effort to pull him off, but Randy's not having it, evidently focused on finishing what he's started.

Colby comes embarassingly fast, the older man's name on his lips not just once, but a handful of times as Randy swallows every drop, keeps massaging him with a skilled tongue even after he's done. It's not until the high flyer is actually pushing at Randy's shoulder, hips twisting away almost uncomfortably, that the Viper finally comes up for air, meeting the younger's eyes with a near devious expression. He licks his lips slowly, much the same way he always does in the ring when he's really settling into his zone, and Colby lets his head drop to the pillow, cursing the fact that he's never going to be able to see that again without popping a boner. It's like Randy knows, too, because Colby can feel his grin when the older man slides up his body to reclaim his lips in a lazy kiss. Normally, Colby thinks, he'd be kind of disgusted at the prospect of tasting his own cum. Somehow, though, Randy makes it sexy, keeps him turned on with the taste alone, the underlying hint of something that is just  _Randy_.

He pulls away much sooner than he'd like, still struggling to catch his breath, come down from the earth-shattering orgasm he's had at the hands (and mouth, his brain provides) of the Legend Killer himself. Feeling Randy pull away, he lets his eyes fall shut, tries to focus on just breathing, getting his whole body to stop trembling. He's so distracted by his own efforts that he doesn't notice Randy snatching the tiny bottle of lube off the night stand, coating three fingers in it. It's not until one of the fingers begins to circle his opening slowly but firmly that Colby snaps back to reality, eyes popping open as he props himself up on one elbow to fix the older with a nearly bewildered expression.

"Seriously? We're not even gonna talk about it? You're just gonna go for it? You just  _assume_  I'm gonna let you fuck me because you gave me an amazing blowjob?" Colby nearly demands, and Randy gapes at him, hand freezing.

"So I can't fuck you?" the Viper asks, seemingly dumbfounded.

"Well, I mean,  _yea_ ," the younger replies with somewhat of an embarassed tone, shoulder tilting up in a half shrug as he adds, "But, yknow, it'd be nice if we at least  _discussed_   _it_  next time."

"Duly noted." Randy says, nodding. Then, quickly, "Sorry."

"It's okay. You can, uhm. Carry on, then." Colby tells him almost nervously, dropping back to the bed and pulling his knees up a bit more, legs falling open slightly wider.

And Randy doesn't need to be told twice, pressing in closer and letting his finger finally breach the younger's entrance, grinning at the way his eyes fall closed and his mouth falls open at the feeling. For all the objecting he'd done, he certainly doesn't seem to mind being on bottom, the Viper thinks, watching as Colby appears to already be panting from just one finger stroking at his inner walls. By the time Randy adds his second finger, he begins to understand why, wanting to groan himself at how tight the young aerialist is, evidently been a while for him as well. He stifles it, though, focusing instead on the way Colby squirms under him, fists already wrapped firmly in the sheet at his sides. The instant he gets his third finger inside, he brushes all three against Colby's spot just to see what sounds will come out. He's more than pleased at the breathy plea of his name he gets in response, the boy's back arching off the bed just a bit at the same time.

Colby is already hard again, nearly grinding himself down against Randy's fingers every few strokes, and the older couldn't be more thankful for it, because he's unsure he can wait much longer, still painfully hard and leaking, himself. He finally pulls his fingers out carefully, satisfied with the preparation he's done, and reaches for the bottle of lube where it lays next to him on the bed. He's just uncapping it again, ready to slick up his own erection, when he feels Colby's hand almost slapping at his thigh, the boy's near breathless voice cutting through his thoughts.

"Hey. H-hey, wait." he says, and Randy wants to curse, because what could he  _possibly_  want now? It's like Colby is reading his mind, though, because he quickly follows it up with, "Condom."

"Yea?" the Viper asks, feeling his stomach sink. Does he even  _have_  any condoms?, he wonders with a panic.

"Yea. Sorry, it's just...just a thing. Not if we're not dating." Colby explains, chest still nearly heaving with his effort to breathe.

Randy nods in understanding, looking sheepish as he says, "I, uh. I dunno if I have any?"

"I do. Back pocket of my pants." the younger tells him, motioning somewhere off the side of the bed.

Randy nearly falls getting off the bed, and he hears the high flyer laugh behind him. He ignores it in favor of searching the boy's pockets, fighting the urge to punch the air when he finds the damn condom. He can't stop the smirk that covers his face when he realizes it'll even fit, and he doesn't bother hiding it when he drops back onto the bed. Still smirking, he drops the package onto Colby's abs, practically presenting himself as he sits up on his knees between the younger's feet where they still sit pressed against his ass. Colby just raises an eyebrow, grin of his own adorning his features as he grabs the condom, opening it with his teeth and tossing the package off the side of the bed. Then, putting on the most sultry of expressions and locking his eyes tight onto the Viper's, he props himself up, places the condom just inside his mouth, and leans forward, rolling it down Randy's dick. Randy feels his own mouth fall open at the sight, growing impossibly harder.

When Colby pulls back with a smirk, Randy can't even resist grabbing him by the chin and dragging him into a bruising kiss, tongue tangling with the younger's the second he moans into it. Without breaking the kiss, he lays the boy back down on the pillows, scooting back on his knees enough to line himself up with the high flyer's entrance. He gives Colby just a moment of the feeling, something of a warning, before pushing in just a bit, swallowing the quick gasp the younger releases and letting himself be pulled closer to the tight body beneath him with firm hands on his shoudlerblades. It's as if Colby is trying his hardest to not actually claw the older man, and Randy appreciates the effort, slowing his hips' movements but not the kiss in his own effort to help relax the high flyer a bit. Colby seems appreciative, as well, pouring all of his energy and focus into kissing Randy back as he wraps his arms around tattooed shoulders instead, rolling his hips up to get the older to push in the rest of the way. It's not until he's completely seated inside the younger, both of them struggling to breathe, that Colby finally breaks the kiss, brown eyes meeting blue in a solid stare.

"Don't stop." the high flyer says, voice firm, and Randy quicklynods, sitting up in the boy's arms just enough to take hold of his thighs, pulling out halfway just to push immediately back in. When Colby lets out another low moan, arms tightening around Randy's shoudlers, the older takes it as a good sign and repeats the motion.

Randy is more than glad that he already went down on Colby now that he's inside of the young aerialist, he realizes, the high flyer so tight around him that Randy just  _knows_  he's not going to last very long. Still, he tries to hold out, keeping up a steady pace as he fucks into the boy, beyond pleased with the absolute symphony of noises he's coaxing out of the younger man. Colby is positively coming undone under him, arms moving from their place around his shoulders to let smaller hands trail all over a larger body, finally landing on either side of Randy's face to drag him into another messy kiss. The sudden change in angle sends a different pitch of noises pouring into the Viper's mouth as he kisses Colby, and he finds himself groaning as well, climax approaching entirely too fast.

After a moment, Randy breaks off the kiss to sit back up, simultaneously speeding up his thrusts and taking hold of the younger's now leaking cock, pumping it as much in time with his thrusts as he can manage. He grins almost triumphantly when Colby's noises turn into actual words, Randy's name mixed with an absolute litany of curse words and a string of praises and encouragements pouring from his lips as if from a fountain. His hands grip Randy's hips so tightly that the older knows there are going to be bruises, but he can't bring himself to care, slamming into the younger just to see if Colby can grab him tighter. He can, it seems, Colby digging in with his nails as words give way to whimpers once again, and Randy's hand closes ever tighter around his cock in response, the Viper leaning down to press their foreheads together softly.

"That's it, Colby. You can do it. Come again for me, babe." he whispers, watching Colby shiver at the pet name. He pecks the boy's lips, muttering against them, "'M so close, Colbs, come on. Wanna feel you get off before I do. Want you to be all tight when I'm coming in you. You can do it, sweetheart, come on."

And praise seems to be the right way to go, Randy realizes, because the next thing he knows, Colby is tightening around him just the way he'd asked, coming all over his hand and his own abs with a sharp cry of Randy's name. It's almost too much, though, and the Viper is forced to still inside the younger as his own orgasm is ripped from him, afraid the condom will come off if he moves. He rides it out unmoving, whispering more soft praises to the trembling boy beneath him as he comes down as well. When Randy finally feels as though they've both settled enough, he places another firm kiss on the high flyer's lips, waiting until Colby begins to kiss him back before grabbing the base of the condom and pulling out slowly.

Tugging the latex off and tossing it off the side of the bed in the general direction of the standard issue trash can, Randy lets out a satisfied sigh, collapsing next to Colby and letting his eyes fall closed. The silence they share as they both catch their breath isn't uncomfortable, and Randy finds himself actually smiling in the afterglow, though he'd never admit it aloud. After a few long, quiet moments, the Viper rolls onto his side, eyes slipping open to look at the high flyer who has just managed to catch his breath beside him. He offers the younger his soft smile before leaning in to rest a large hand on the boy's cheek, steal another kiss. Colby only kisses back for a moment, however, before breaking it off with a wet smack and scooting away a bit, sitting up in bed instead. Randy sits up as well, watching as Colby's entire demeanor turns almost nervous once again. He clears his throat as if to find his voice before speaking.

"Well, that was, uhm. That was pretty much incredible. Thanks for that. That, ah. That's gonna become a repeat performance." Colby says with a shy grin, voice hoarse, and Randy barks out a loud laugh, making the high flyer duck his head away even more.

"It better be!" the Viper tells him, reaching out to ruffle his sweat soaked hair.

"It will! I promise. Seriously, just what I needed." Colby assures the older, blush burning his cheeks even as he says it. But then, he's scooting closer to the edge of the bed, pushing himself off of it slowly, and Randy tries to ignore the way his stomach begins to turn at the sight. As he moves, Colby says, "But, I'm not really a big cuddler after sex unless I'm in a relationship, so..."

"Oh! Right. Right, yea, it's fine. You're fine." Randy tries not to sound flustered as he speaks, adding quickly as he stands up as well, "I was just gonna jump in the shower, anyway."

"Ha, yea. I should definitely do that when I get back." Colby replies with a laugh as he re-dresses, movements slow and careful. As he steps into his shoes, he turns to Randy with a wide smile, almost exclaiming, "But this was nice! We'll definitely have to do it again sometime. Soon."

"I was hoping for a little better than nice." the Viper jokes, crossing his arms over his chest in fake indignance.

Colby steps back into his personal space, running his hands up and down heavily inked biceps as he says, "Okay, better than nice. Much, much better than nice. Fucking amazing. Does that work?"

Randy takes the opportunity to steal a quick kiss, bumping his forehead against the younger's when he pulls back.

"That works." he tells the boy. Then, he's stepping back, heading toward his bathroom and pretending his chest isn't as tight as he thinks it is. He asks, "Shouldn't you be getting back to your boys? I'm sure they want to celebrate with you."

Colby laughs a little  _too_  loud at that, nodding in agreement.

"Yea, I guess so. I'll see you later, though, okay? Text you later tonight?" he offers, stepping closer to the door.

"Sounds like a plan. I'll talk to you later, Colby. And you're right, tonight was fun. We'll definitely have to do it again soon." Randy replies, turning to face the bathroom door as he hears the hotel room door open.

Then, Colby is bidding him goodnight and letting the door fall shut behind him. Randy lets out a soft sigh at the sound, blocking out the voice telling him to call the boy back. It's not like he's ever been a cuddler, either, especially with someone he's just fucking. Why start now? Still, when he gets in the shower, he makes sure to turn the water on as hot as he can stand, telling himself it's not to erase the feeling of Colby's hands on his skin, the scent of the high flyer from his body before he can start to miss them.

 

**XXXXX**

 

"Oh, hey! See, I told you he'd be back tonight." Dean exclaims from where his head rests on Roman's chest the absolute instant Colby walks in the door.

The high flyer tries to ignore the twinge of jealousy he feels at their current positions, completely wrapped up in each other under the sheet on their bed. He turns away from them, walking around his own bed to kick his shoes off next to it, empty his pockets on the bedside table. As he nears them, however, he hears Dean sniff the air, and he fights the urge to still at the sound.

"You smell like sex. Why do you smell like sex?" his friend questions, and Colby turns to him with a smirk, trying for a distraction.

"This whole  _room_  smells like sex, Dean. Maybe you're smelling  _you_." the younger fires back, shooting his companion a very pointed look as he puts on his girliest voice and loudly adds, " _Oh God, Rome, just fuck me already, pleeeeaaaaassssee!_ "

Roman instantly looks like he wants to die, groaning and dropping an arm over his face in embarassment. Colby and Dean both just laugh, Dean telling the younger, "Yea, well, you just keep being jealous you're not getting laid, man. I mean, it's not like we didn't offer..."

"And I told you I'm fine. Seriously, Dean." Colby replies with a soft smile. Dean shrugs.

"Oh, well. Offer still stands, if you ever change your mind. When was the last time you even  _got_  laid, anyway?" Dean wonders aloud, and Colby stops in his tracks on the way to the bathroom.

Quickly, he tries to cover, turning and telling his friend with the cheekiest of grins, "That, Dean, is none of your business."

"Oh, that hurts." the older responds, ignoring his boyfriend's reprimands from next to him.

Colby laughs again, shrugging and heading to the bathroom. He stops at the door long enough to tell Dean, "It can hurt, then. I'm still not telling you."

Before his friend can respond, Colby ducks into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him. When he tugs off his shirt, he grimaces at the cum dried on his stomach, making a mental note to at least clean off before he comes back next time, lest he run into another close call. He showers quickly, only wincing a few times at the pain in his lower back, but still, Dean and Roman have both managed to nod off by the time he enters the bedroom again. He's not sure whether he's relieved or not, part of him itching to at least talk about the events of the pay-per-view with his teammates. Still, letting his gaze run over his cuddling companions once more, he feels the twinge of jealously from before resurface, and he does his damndest to ignore it. All night, though, it sits there right below the surface, making his stomach hurt the slightest bit. And all night, Colby tries to tell himself that it has nothing at all to do with Randy fucking Orton.


	7. Hot

_~Now you're in, and you can't get out._

_You make me so hot,_   
_Make me wanna drop._   
_You're so ridiculous,_   
_I can barely stop.~_

 

The morning after their first sexual encounter, it takes everything in the young high flyer to not immediately revert back to his flight mode and go back to ignoring the Viper's texts, calls, mere  _presence_  as much as he can manage with their close work proximity, the reality of the situation once again almost too much to handle. But, he reminds himself, Orton may have made the first move, be the sex itself had been  _his_  idea. And if he's completely and totally honest with himself, it had been nothing short of mind-blowing (though he's the only one he's going to be honest with about that, thank you very much). So really, he thinks, what's the harm in keeping up a mutually beneficial arrangement such as this?  _Nothing_ , he tells himself, opening a new text to his newfound fuck-buddy.

Over the course of the next few weeks, Colby takes every advantage he can find to slip away from his friends and co-workers and make his way to fucking  _Randy Orton_ , just so he can find himself on the receiving end of some of the most earth-shattering orgasms he's had in recent years ( _or ever_ , a voice says). The pure sexual chemistry they have is unreal, something Colby can't quite recall ever achieving with anyone else, at least on this level, and it leads to more than a handful of near-electric encounters that leave the high flyer's mind reeling, trying desperately to catch up to the feelings his body experiences.

What shocks Colby the most about this whole new arrangement, though, is that, unlike every other time he's slept with one of his friends, they've somehow managed to maintain a normal friendship that  _doesn't_  revolve around sex. They still hang out at bars and in hotel rooms with Randy's friends, they still get shitty takeout and stay up for hours eating it and talking, and they still sit around in Randy's hotel room playing video games until the early morning. Which is what they're doing now, pressed up against each other side by side against the headboard, deeply involved in a game of Sonic All-Star Racing. So far, they're tied for wins, but Randy is  _convinced_  that Colby has been cheating somehow.

"One more game. Seriously, I'll stomp you." Randy snaps, almost glaring at the younger, and Colby throws his head back in a loud laugh.

"You sound like Christian. 'One more match, one more match!' Get over yourself!" the high flyer jokes, elbowing the older man in the side, and Randy can't fight his grin.

He shoves back at the younger, telling him, "Quiet, brat. Come on, though, one more game. We'll even make a wager."

And, "Loser blows winner?" Colby offers.

...Okay, so it doesn't  _completely_  revolve around sex, Colby thinks. Randy scowls at his idea, though, and Colby raises an eyebrow.

"Not fair." the older says in lieu of an explanation.

"Uhm...Winner blows loser?" the younger offers instead, and Randy smirks.

"That's more like it." he mutters, turning to the TV as he adds, "Game on, kid."

"Bring it, old man." Colby fires back, starting the game.

The end of the game finds Randy on his knees at the foot of the bed, practically worshipping the younger man's cock as Colby holds onto his shoulders as if he'll fall off the edge of the Earth if he lets go. When Colby comes, it's with the Viper's name on his lips, fingernails digging into the soft flesh beneath him, and stars dancing behind his eyes. Afterward, he and Randy both collapse onto the bed in a huff, Colby struggling to catch his breath and collect himself. Just as he feels his breathing slowing down, the tingling feeling fading out of his limbs, he feels Randy press a kiss to his shoulder, lips trailing all the way up his neck and sending a fresh shiver up his spine.

Suddenly, Randy leans up to whisper right against his ear, "I still think you cheated."

And Colby loses it, hysterical laughter spilling from him so roughly that it almost makes him choke, makes him sit up instantly so he can breathe between the fits of laughter. Tears stream from his eyes as he tries once again to catch his breath, Randy laughing almost as hard right next to him, and Colby again thinks to himself,  _yea, I could get used to this_.

 

**III**

 

And really, Colby knows that he shouldn't be here right now, should be getting ready for his match and not in  _Randy's_  fucking locker room, but from his current position bent over the couch in said locker room, the Viper pounding into him roughly from behind, he just can't bring himself to care. It's a house show, anyway, he thinks, so who's really even going to notice if he's more flushed, more  _wrecked_  than usual? No one who'll matter, that's who. At least, this is what he's been telling himself since Randy had first texted him asking about the quickie they're currently engaged in. And besides, it's not like he doesn't have plenty of time, he reminds himself. His match isn't for another twenty minutes, anyway, and-

-and that's about when Colby loses all cognitive thought processes as Randy's right hand threads into his hair and wrenches his hair back for better access to his neck, teeth grazing the skin there just enough to send a solid shiver up the high flyer's spine. The sensation, coupled with the fact that Randy has been deliberately nailing his prostate with every inward stroke, has Colby clinging to the couch, babbling near incoherent phrases as he feels himself all too quickly rushing toward climax. The Viper can tell, too, speeding up his thrusts and snaking his left hand down to tug at the younger's cock, muttering soft encouragements against his skin all the while.

"Christ, you're so tight, kid. Gonna get me off so fast,  _fuck_." Randy tells him, pressing the words right into the skin where his neck meets his shoulder, and Colby groans, dropping closer to the couch as his arms begin to tremble at the feeling. The sudden shift makes Randy smirk, sitting up more and releasing the boy's hair in favor of grabbing onto his hip so that he can push in harder. He asks a bit louder, fingertips digging into the skin beneath them, "You close too, Colby? Gonna come with me?"

Colby opens his mouth, tries to reply, but all he manages is an undignified fucking  _whimper,_  so instead he just nods quickly, forehead almost hitting the arm rest under him with the force of it. He hears the Viper laugh behind him, almost chokes when he feels Randy's hand speed up around his dick, eyes clenching shut tight. It's not even  _fair_  the way the older seems to know just how to work him over, he thinks, trying desperately to hold off his orgasm just to spite Randy. He wishes he could blame the fact that he's basically been abstinate for as long as he can remember, but he knows that's not entirely true, especially as Randy drops a kiss just behind his ear.

"Then  _come_." Randy commands, lips grazing his skin  _just so_  when he speaks, like he can  _sense_  the way it'll make Colby come undone.

It definitely works, though, the high flyer's cum covering Randy's hand and dripping onto the couch as his orgasm is ripped from him with a strangled, " _Fuck_ , Randy!"

The older groans loudly as he feels Colby tighten around him, fucking into the boy even faster as he chases down his own orgasm. Colby's arms tremble too much in the wake of his climax to support him, however, and after a handful of thrusts, they give out completely, dropping them both near violently forward. Randy's quick reflexes barely save them, scooping Colby back against his chest with his left arm in the last possible second, suddenly thankful he'd already thought to at least wipe off his hand. The high flyer lets out a whine as Randy alters his angle and speeds up a bit more, overwhelmed at the overstimulation. His hands fly up to grab at the Viper's arm, a desperate attempt to get his attention.

"T-too much, fucking-  _too much_!" Colby almost whimpers, nails digging harshly into tattooed skin, but Randy doesn't seem to care, keeping up his same pace even as he responds.

"S'okay. So close, Colbs, so goddamn..." the older mutters, grip tightening both on Colby's hip and around his stomach as he suddenly stills, harsh groan spilling from his lips as he finally comes, as well.

Once his aftershocks have finally subsided, Randy loosens his grasp on the younger just enough to grab the base of the condom and pull out, dispose of the damn thing, before he's dropping onto his back on the couch, dragging Colby down with him when the high flyer tries to get up. Colby squirms in Randy's arms the slightest bit even as they both tighten around him, only falling still when the older begins to nuzzle into the scruff on his jawline, access made easy from his sideways position on the Viper's chest. The boy huffs out a half sigh of defeat, turning his head to capture Randy's lips in a slow kiss instead. As the older's tongue finds its way into his mouth, a hand also finds his hair, toying with the drenched ends of it as they both take their time to simply indulge in the kiss, explore one another as they let their racing hearts slow the slightest bit. When they eventually separate, it's with matching lazy grins, Randy's hand moving to cup the back of the boy's head, fingers locked into the hair at the base of his scalp as he lets his eyes trail over the face in front of him. Colby looks completely blissed out, dazed in a way that makes Randy want to pat himself on the back. He's just opening his mouth to comment on it when his eyes land on the clock on the wall behind the boy. It takes a lot to maintain his composure as he reads the time, biting back a curse.

"Hey, uh. What time did you need to be out of here?" Randy asks carefully, trying his damndest to keep Colby calm. It doesn't work, though, brown eyes snapping wide open as the younger whips his head around to check the time for himself.

" _Shit!_ " Colby exclaims, extracting himself from the Viper's arms and half stumbling off the couch. As he rushes around the room throwing on his clothes as quickly as possible, he rants, "I should have been gone by now,  _fuck_! Dean and Roman are gonna fucking kill me, oh my God. I  _knew_  this was a terrible idea. I should have- _shit!_ "

And once again, Randy's reflexes are the only thing to save the younger from smashing his face, feet tangled in his pants from trying to walk and dress himself at the same time. After steadying the boy, Randy tugs his pants the rest of the way up for him, zipping and buttoning them with a soft smile. Pressing a quick kiss to Colby's lips, he tells him, "Relax. It's a house show. You'll be fine."

Colby sighs, turning away to look for his shoes as he replies, "Easy for  _you_  to say."

"Seriously," Randy says, scooping the shoes up off the floor and handing them to the boy, "It's not a big deal. I mean, you could always tell them we're fucking..."

The high flyer barks out a laugh at this, dropping the shoes to the floor and stepping into them as Randy tugs on his trunks for the night.

"Yea, I'm gonna go with 'no' on that one." Colby responds with a smirk, tying the shoes as quickly as he can before backing toward the door. "Nice try, though. But, I'll text you later?"

"Sounds like a plan." Randy agrees, taking the boy's chin in his hand and pulling him in for another kiss, this one deeper, before finally letting him open the door, slip out of it with a wide grin.

As he turns to head down the hall, Randy's eyes land on his ass instantly, and he can't even help himself, giving it a slap rough enough to make Colby jump. The high flyer whirls around, eyes wide and cheeks red, and it's Randy's turn to bark out a laugh, wave at his companion slyly.

"Have a good match." he tells Colby, shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

Colby just rolls his eyes, flipping him off and mouthing a clear 'fuck you' before turning and darting off down the hall. When Randy turns around himself to head back into his locker room, finish preparing for his own match, he runs right into another solid body, startling and jumping away from it with wide eyes of his own. John just clears his throat, raising an eyebrow at his friend in suspicion and crossing his arms over his chest as he nods toward the younger's locker room door. Randy does his best not to look sheepish as he opens the door for his friend, because really, he has nothing to feel sheepish about. Still, the feeling is there, at least slightly, and it has him keeping his back to the older as he makes his way around the room. After a few long moments, John is finally the first one to speak.

"I thought this was just a one-and-done kind of thing?" Cena questions, and Randy does turn to face him now, offering him a simple shrug.

"You thought wrong? I mean, I never said it was a one-and-done kind of thing. I don't know why you would assume that's what I meant when I said I was fucking him." Randy replies, and John huffs out a near angry sigh, one that has Randy fighting the urge to turn away from his friend once again, especially as the older nearly descends upon him, trying for something that looks like intimidation.

"Maybe because it's a terrible idea? Randy, you  _know_  if Hunter finds out-" Cena tries, and since that's quite possibly the  _last_  thing he wants to think about in relation to his current predicament, he interrupts John, speaking over him for good measure.

"I thought you were all gung-ho about this a few weeks ago? What the hell happened to  _that_  John? Bring him back around." the Viper half grumbles, picking out and tugging on a shirt.

"You knew what the hell I meant, Orton. Fuck the kid, get this sexual tension out of  _both_  your systems, and  _get on with your lives_. Be  _friends_. Like  _normal people_." John explains, exasperation clear on his features, but still, Randy can't help but laugh.

"Right. Like you've  _ever_  confused me with normal." he snarks in response, and when John sighs now, it's with a note of something close to defeat, even throwing his hands up in added annoyance.

He should have  _known_  it was too soon before the storm to try and talk the younger out of anything, he thinks. Randy practically  _craves_  drama. Still, he has to try.

"Well, whatever, then. Do whatever it is you're going to do. Just, please, Randy,  _be careful_." John tells his friend, and Randy certainly doesn't miss the legitimate warning tone of voice that accompanies it. In an effort to calm Cena's nerves the slightest bit, he approaches the older and claps a steady hand on his shoulder, offering him a soft smile.

"I will be. I promise, dad. I know what I'm doing here." Randy says near condescendingly. Then, he's patting John on the shoulder a few more times, adding with a wide grin, "Trust me."

And John sighs yet again, muttering mostly to himself as he follows his friend from the locker room, "That's what makes this so goddamn hard."

(Colby, on the other hand, barely makes it to the stairwell in time for his entrance. Part of him is relieved he's still sweat-soaked enough that he doesn't even need to wet his hair, ends still dripping even as he skids to a stop beside his friends. The rest of him, however, couldn't be more mortified right around the time that Dean steps in close behind him as they near the curtain, inhaling unnecessarily loudly through his nose before coughing out a laugh directly into his ear.

"Oh yea, Colbs," Dean says barely loud enough to be heard over their entrance music, the screams of the crowd, voice beyond smug, "it's  _definitely_  you that smells like sex.")


	8. Obvious

_~Let's make a mess, steal a kiss in the moment_   
_You and me, everything that it could be_   
_Touch. Don't go. Stay as long as you like._

_It's o-o-obvious to me how it's gonna be,_   
_O-o-obvious, when you come close to me.~_

 

"So, not to completely kill the mood," Dean begins as his lover presses soft kisses across his chest, and Roman groans, because the only thing that could  _possibly_  follow that statement is something that's going to completely kill the mood. The younger man shoots him a look before continuing, trying to prove him wrong, "But, do you think Colby is fucking someone?"

Roman rolls his eyes, a silent,  _is that all?_  and returns to what he was doing, moving down to bite at his lover's abs. Darting his eyes up at Dean, he mutters, "Even if he is, it's none of our business."

"So you're not even the least bit curious?" Dean asks, running his fingers slowly through Roman's hair as the Samoan works his way down the slighter body with his lips.

"It doesn't matter whether I'm curious or not, Dean. If he is, and he wants to tell us, he will. Otherwise, we don't need to badger him about it." the older explains sitting up a bit, adding when his boyfriend tries to object, " _Either_  of us."

Dean lets out a grunt in response, but falls silent, so Roman moves to unbutton the younger's jeans, convinced that the subject is dead for the moment. It's not until the blonde has kicked his pants off completely, Roman standing to follow suit, that Dean props himself up on one elbow to speak again.

"So, hypothetically, if Colby  _were_  fucking someone, who d'ya think it'd be?" the younger inquires, a near devious smirk on his face.

This time, Roman sighs, pausing with his pants at his knees to shoot his boyfriend a near frustrating look. Dean simply shrugs, as if to say,  _well?_ , and it's all Roman can do to not immediately tug his pants back on, forget the whole attempt at sex before Colby makes it back. Instead, he crosses his arms over his chest, offers his lover another off-put expression.

"I don't know, Dean, because  _I don't think about it._  I'm not entirely sure why  _you_  think about it so much." the older says, and Dean drops back to the bed in something close to frustration.

"I don't know why you  _don't_ , Rome! Come on. Colby, our dear, sweet, baby brother, is gone all the time, at all hours, showing up late as all fuck at work looking all kinds of fucked out and  _reeking_  of sex, and you mean to tell me you're not even slightly intrigued? Really, Ro? No part of you?" the blonde replies, faint traces of actual shock on his face.

And Roman exhales in sheer annoyance as he speaks when he tells his lover, "No, babe, not even the smallest part. Now seriously, Dean,  _darling_ , are we gonna sit here all day talking about Colby's potentially newfound sex life, or are we actually going to have some kind of progress in ours?"

"Dammit," Dean mutters, biting down on his bottom lip before sitting up a bit, crawling up the bed to bite at his boyfriend's instead.  _Fuckin' pet names_ , he thinks. Roman knows  _exactly_  what the hell he's doing. Still, Dean only breaks the kiss he's started to ask, "Why are you always right?"

Roman barks out a loud laugh at this, informing the blonde as he finally finishes kicking off his pants, "It's a Samoan thing."

Then, he's diving back in, reclaiming Dean's lips both in an effort to silence him, coupled with the fact that he simply can't help himself, especially now that he's aware he's regained the upper hand. He grins into the kiss when he feels Dean almost melt against him, scooping the younger up under the knees from his position kneeling on them and slamming his back into the wall nearest the bed as a means of further distraction. It works, too, all ponderings of their youngest teammate and his sex life pushed to the furthest reaches of the blonde man's brain the instant his back connects with the solid surface, thoughts released with his hiss of a breath. It's not until well over an hour and two solid rounds later, Dean sprawled across Roman, fingers tracing words into the ink of his tattoos, that the younger speaks up once again.

"I wonder if it's Cena." he offers, voice still raspy, adding as if he actually needs to clarify, "That Colby's fucking, I mean."

Roman is still too drained to be too irritated, though, mumbling without really thinking about it, "Why in the hell would it be Cena?"

"Why not?" Dean wonders, and Roman laughs, tilting his head down just enough to meet his lover's gaze.

"Because it's  _John Cena_. Come on, Dean. Use your head. Or was the second orgasm  _that_  good?" the older jokes, grinning wider when he feels the face resting against his chest heat up the slightest bit. He almost thinks he's won again, succeeded in getting Dean to drop the subject, when the slightly smaller man rolls over a bit, resting his chin on his folded hands to look at Roman better.

"I mean, you say that, but why else would Colby be hanging out with that living, breathing cartoon character if they  _aren't_  having sex, hmmm?" the blonde inquires with a smirk.

"Maybe because he's fucking one of Cena's friends?" Roman suggests, raising an almost skeptical eyebrow at his lover. This, however, only succeeds in making the grin spread further across the younger's face.

"So you  _have_  thought about it." Dean says, suddenly triumphant.

And Roman just groans, can't fight the feeling that he's never going to actually win this. He's never going to convince the blonde man beside him that he hasn't actually put any kind of thought into their companion's resent sexcapades, not when Dean seems so very determined to think otherwise. Instead, he rolls his eyes, a means of admitting defeat as he tugs his grinning lover closer, speaking into his hair when he finally responds.

"Maybe I have, alright? The point is, I don't want to think about it  _right now_. And you shouldn't, either. Not until he's good and ready to tell us about it." the Samoan tries to reason with the younger.

This time, finally, it's Dean's turn to huff out a sigh, one that sends chill bumps scattering across Roman's chest, makes them bloom over his tattoo, especially as fingers begin to follow the breath, the blonde beginning to relax in his arms.

"Okay, fine. You win. I'll drop it." Dean mumbles as Roman's large hand makes it way up and down his back.

Roman holds him ever tighter, a smile that rings of victory settling onto his own face.  _At last,_  he thinks,  _some peace and quiet_. Though, he reminds himself, he really should have known better than to call it a win just yet, because right as he's about to doze off for a bit, subject put to rest at last, Dean's voice trickles into his ear again.

"But I  _still_  bet it's Cena."

 

**XXXXX**

 

 _There is just something about a hot shower after work,_  Colby thinks to himself as the hot spray rolls over his body, steam so thick in the room that he can hardly see the shower's knob in front of him. He closes his eyes to it instead, allowing the water to ease the tension from his muslces and the stress from his brain. At least, as much of it as hot water alone can manage, given his current situation, he reminds himself. Much as he tries, he can't seem to shake the fact that Randy is  _definitely_  treating him like much more than just a simple fuck-buddy. Not that he necessarily brings the fact up too often, he thinks, but it's not like he hasn't had his fair share of sexual acquaintances, and none of them have treated him quite the way Randy Orton is currently. They were never quite so considerate, quite so hands-y outside of the bedroom, quite so...personal, he's come to realize (even the girls, he thinks, and that fact alone says something). And, if Colby's completely honest with himself, that thought is what's kept him from seeking out the older wrestler quite so much for sexual pleasure lately.

It's not as though he doesn't enjoy being around Randy, doesn't  _more_  than enjoy the sex, the aerialist reminds himself. It's just that he'd made a promise to himself at the very beginning of this whole thing that he wouldn't get attached. He can't possibly think of anyone worse than Orton to be involved with more than sexually behind the scenes (besides maybe Cena, he thinks, and just...gross. No way), yet here he is, constantly thoroughly distracted by thoughts of the older man. The young high flyer is so consumed in his thoughts, and his shower, in fact, that he doesn't even notice the taller body creeping up on him until it's pressed up against him from behind, lips pressed to his neck and hands gripping his hips before he even realizes what's going on. Colby sucks in a breath, body automatically leaning back against the firm chest curling around his back, letting himself be enveloped by the black and grey arms that wrap themselves around him moments before his brain even has a chance to catch up. Everything comes back into focus with a snap, though, the second a hand wraps around his cock, taking advantage of how wet it already is from the shower to give it a few quick strokes.

" _Randy_ , what in Christ's name are you doing?" he breathes, making a lame attempt to bat the hand away. His efforts become even more pathetic when he feels Randy laugh against the skin of his neck, dragging a shiver from the depths of his spine all the way to the top of his head.

"And here I thought by now you'd at least know  _that_." the Viper jokes, trailing kisses across the top of the younger's shoulder, and Colby groans.

"You know what I mean, asshole. We're at the fucking  _arena_. In the  _public shower_. Someone's gonna fucking  _see us_!" Colby objects, struggling in Randy's grasp. The older just laughs again, though, the arm around his chest holding Colby tighter as he tightens his grip on the high flyer's member, gives it a few more quick strokes. The younger grits his teeth in an effort to bite back a moan at the feeling, grinding out instead, "We can't do this here, Randy."

"Later, then. Come out tonight, and then we'll finish this after." Randy offers slowly, biting down lightly on the boy's neck in the spot he just  _knows_  takes his legs from under him. It almost works, too, Colby only managing to stay on his feet by pushing against the Viper once more, still half-trying to get away despite everything in his being trying to tell him to stay  _right there_ , let Randy finish what he's started, since he so clearly wants to.

"I can't. Me, Dean and Roman have plans. We're doing...a thing." he tries, and it sounds stupid even coming out of his mouth. Finally managing to shove away from his companion, he turns his body to face the older, but still can't meet his eyes. Somewhat sheepishly, he adds, more to his bare feet than to Randy, "I've been really busy lately."

"Is that so?" Randy asks, the close proximity of his voice and the shadow settling over Colby's toes nearly forcing the younger to look back up into smirking blue eyes that almost immediately take his breath from him in a sharp gasp. Quickly, the older backs him up all the way to the wall and steals his answer from him by way of a kiss when he tries to respond, one that the high flyer can't help but accept, especially as Randy seals their hips together, erections sliding against each other enough to let a moan slip out just as he pulls back. Before Colby can respond, Randy continues, "Well, surely you can find time to slip away for a little bit, right? Come on, come to the bar with me tonight. Everyone will be there."

It takes everything in the younger to shake his head, turn down the offer even as the Viper reaches out, taking both of their cocks into his hand at the same time and giving them a few quick pumps, thumb rolling over the heads just enough to make Colby suck in a sharp breath. He closes his eyes once more as he bites out, "I really  _can't_ , Randy. Dean and Roman..."

It's futile, though, Randy leaning in to snag the boy's ear with his teeth just the way he knows will make him tremble and not even bothering to release it before muttering right against the skin, "I'm not taking 'no' for an answer, kid."

The groan this motion produces from Colby is more pleasure than annoyance, and Randy takes it as a win, jacking them both off a bit more slowly, just enough to tease the younger as he watches Colby struggle to hold on to the last shred of his composure.

"Randy,  _stop_!" the high flyer manages, pushing at Randy's hand again, albeit even more half-heartedly than before, as he tries, "Seriously, I can't-"

"You  _can_ , you just  _don't want to_." the Viper interrupts him with a chuckle that spills hot air across his neck where the older man has finally released his ear in favor of dragging the teeth down the slope of his neck all the way to his shoulder, where they attach themselves once more, just tight enough to draw a sharp hiss from the boy adding, "You're  _scared_. Though of what, I'm not sure. Whatever it is, it's depriving both of us of some  _seriously_  phenomenal orgasms, and I think that part, at the very least, needs to stop. Tonight."

The instant Colby opens his mouth to object, Randy grinds against him, the friction morphing whatever words he'd attempted into a whine of the Viper's name, the younger's hands completely falling away from their bodies and moving to grab at the wall instead.

"Now, I can either go ahead and get us both off  _right here_ , in the  _communal showers_ , where  _anyone_  can see us," Randy says as somewhat of an offer, lips ghosting back up the high flyer's neck as he speaks, hand speeding up around both of their cocks as he adds another slow thrust for good measure, "Or, you can come out with me tonight, and we can finish this after."

"Randy,  _please_ ," Colby nearly whimpers, though the Viper isn't entirely sure what the boy's begging for, and he's pretty convinced Colby doesn't know, either. This thought is confirmed the second the younger's eyes roll back, mouth falling open a bit as he actually  _does_  whine, his back arching away from the wall enough that his chest brushes Randy's. Just as the older is about to tease Colby further, figure out what it is that he wants, the high flyer's head falls forward to his shoulder with a muttered, "Oh,  _fuck_."

It's all the warning Randy gets before he feels the body against him still, his hand being coated in an added wet warmth, and he can't help but chuckle, turning his head just enough to press a kiss to Colby's temple, telling him softly, "Well, that answers  _that_  question."

Colby just groans, pushing off of Randy to lean against the wall again as the Viper releases them to run his hand under the still-running water of the shower. Colby struggles to catch his breath, but moves under the spray as well, eyes darting to the older's still hard dick for a moment before moving quickly back to his blue eyes. Randy laughs again, shaking his head and stepping back into the high flyer's personal space, pressing him even further into the wall. Grinning, he steals whatever had been on the younger's mind with a slow kiss, one that almost succeeds in drawing another rumble from the boy's chest agains his own. Then, before Colby can catch his wits again, he pulls back, ruffles the two toned hair as voices begin to filter into the locker room, toward the showers.

"So  _obviously_ , we don't need to take a break for that long ever again," he tells the boy, smirking when Colby instantly blushes a deeper red than the hot water and his recent orgasm have already made him turn, "so I expect you at the bar tonight. I'll text you the address. We'll probably be there by 12:30."

The younger is still too winded, too dizzy to do anything but nod slowly. His eyes widen with evident nervousness as the voices grow ever closer, almost right around the corner. In what feels like the very last moment possible, Randy leans in, pressing another quick kiss to Colby's lips and patting him on the cheek before snatching his towel and turning to walk away.

"Try not to be too late." the Viper calls as he exits the room, leaving Colby alone under the spray to try and compose himself.

Thankfully, he's managed to at least even out his breathing by the time a few more members of the roster make their way into the showers, turning on showerheads around him to start their own cleaning processes. Still, it's on trembling legs that he grabs his own towel and heads back to his own locker room. He dresses faster than he originally intended, suddenly determined to get back to the hotel and maybe even leave again before Dean and Roman manage to realize he's got plans and try to ask the million questions he knows they'll throw his way. Through all of the motions, he's not even entirely sure why he's even agreeing to what was almost a demand from the Viper, who is probably the last person he should be answering to. All that is certain is that he has agreed, and somewhere deep in the near furthest reaches of his brain, he can't help but find himself slightly more interested in the night ahead than usual.

 

**III**

 

 _Of course_  his friends have somehow managed to beat him to the hotel, and just as he expected, Dean and Roman don't hesitate to bombard him with questions the instant he begins to get ready to do something other than sit in their room, watch TV and order takeout.

"And just where the hell are you going looking so fancy?" Dean asks, dropping onto his stomach onto the bed behind where Colby stands in front of the mirror.

The high flyer freezes halfway up the button down, meeting his friend's eyes in the reflection, suddenly more than a little self-conscious. He fires back, face beginning to heat up as he finishes buttoning the shirt, "It's not  _fancy_ , it's what's  _clean_  that's too small for you to steal."

Dean just laughs, nearly falling as he stretches to reach the remote on the other bed.

"I keep telling you," he replies, sighing as he gives up on changing the channel, "if you would just throw my stuff in with yours when you wash it, no one would have to worry about me  _borrowing_  your shit."

"And I keep telling _you_ ," Colby tells the older, tucking half the shirt into his jeans as he begins the internal debate of whether to tuck the whole thing in or not, "I'm not doing your damn laundry. Ask your boyfriend to do it."

"You both know damn well his boyfriend isn't doing it, either." Roman says as he exits the bathroom, still toweling his hair as he comes to stand behind the younger in the mirror. "Also, nice try with the topic change, but you still didn't answer the original question. Where  _are_  you going? And by the way, ya do look pretty fancy."

The Samoan accentuates this point with a flick to the bun Colby's pulled his hair into that's so hard, it almost knocks it loose, the high flyer shooting his companion a scowl that Roman just laughs at on his way to the beds.

"I'm going  _out_." Colby responds simply, double checking his hair to make sure his friend didn't ruin it (though, the more they point out how  _fancy_  he apparently looks, the more he wonders whether or not he should care this much).

"Like on a  _date_?" Dean asks with an ever-widening grin, so distracted by their youngest teammate that he almost misses Roman finally handing him the remote. He immediately sets it down next to him, turning his attention back to Colby instead.

"Like to a  _bar_." Colby says, turning with a smirk of his own to the blonde as he adds, "And unlike you, Dean, I don't go on dates to bars, so. Not a date."

For a split second, the high flyer thinks he's finally gained the upper hand, moving to grab his wallet and phone before his friends can accost him further. Then, Dean's piping up again, and his words instantly heat Colby's face, make his stomach curl with nerves.

"Are you at least going out with whoever it is you're fucking? Come on, we won't tell anyone." the older jokes, cursing when Roman instantly punches him in the arm, but Colby can't feel any of the humor, suddenly too uncomfortable with how close his friends are to finding out the truth to be amused.

"Ha ha, real funny. I told you already, I'm not sleeping with anyone. I am going out, though. To a bar. With friends. Right now." he rushes out, struggling to keep his voice even as he heads hurriedly toward the door. As he yanks it open, he tosses over his shoulder, refusing to turn his red face back to his teammates, "I'll see you guys later."

As the door slams shut behind him, Colby can still hear Dean's cackle, even through the wood and metal, and he rolls his eyes, heading to the elevator. Unlocking his phone and opening his texts, he double checks the address Randy had sent probably the instant he'd left the arena, pressing the down button without looking up from the screen. Even when the doors ding, opening wide before him, Dean's laughter still rings in his memory, and as he pockets his phone and steps into the elevator, he thinks to himself,  _tonight better be fucking_ amazing _._

 

**III**

 

He wouldn't say the evening is  _amazing_ , but Colby definitely has to admit that something is different as he sits next to Randy at the table at the bar, and not just because it's a slightly bigger crowd than he's used to out with them. Randy certainly had meant  _everyone_  when he'd said it earlier, the Bellas, Kofi, and Miz and a beyond-quiet Alex Riley have joined their normal group, and Colby would be lying if that hadn't already made him feel a bit out of place (apparently much like Alex across from him, who has stayed as tucked into Mike's side as he can manage the entire time). He's hardly able to focus on any of them most of the time, though, because apparently, absence really does make the heart grow fonder, Randy suddenly more handsy in public than he's ever been before.

It had started innocently enough, the older's chair so close that their legs and arms can't help but brush against one another every time either of them move very far at all, which happens more often than Colby will ever admit to noticing. After a bit, the smaller touches had escalated to a discreet game of buzzed footsie that the high flyer could almost pass off as innocent had it not been for the sly grin the Viper had shot his way as a foot had nudged just slightly higher than it had at any point so far, one that immediately had Colby looking anywhere but his tattooed companion. Once his eyes had settled on an almost angry looking stare from Cody, however, he'd kind of begun to regret diverting his attention from Randy in the first place, and had turned back to him almost against his will. This had only succeeded in spurring the older on, though, apparently convinced that Colby was interested in this little activity, and subsequently led to the Viper getting even more handsy.

Which brings them both to now, Randy's hand resting dangerously close to his zipper on his inner thigh, knee bouncing right against his own as a rather heated game of "Never Have I Ever", or as Brie has dubbed it,  _the worst game in the fucking world_ , takes place around the table. He's already learned more than he ever really wanted to know about his co-workers' sex lives, hygiene habits, turn-ons, and crushes, but he has to admit, he's having a good time (though, he thinks, that could be because of the amount of alcohol he's had in the last half hour alone), good enough that he should be able to ignore the fingers toying with the inner seam of his pants. He can't, though, the perfect storm of Randy's touch, the liquor, and the conversation, how terrifyingly close it's come to revealing everything he's been hiding the last few months, all turning him on enough to nearly want to drag the older away now, make good on the promise from their shared shower earlier. It's Randy's turn at the game, however, and he continues in his tradition thus far of trying to embarass Colby as much as possible without completely outing their relations, his voice dragging the high flyer's focus from his hands to his mouth as he speaks, smirk firmly in place.

"Never have I ever gotten a hand-job in an arena shower." the Viper says, and Colby groans, taking another long swig off his drink with a roll of his eyes.

"That's not fair and you know it." he mutters, which makes Randy laugh entirely too loud.

"Why, because he knows he can't say it if he's done it?" John jokes as he sets his own drink back down.

"I haven't, though." Randy replies, still grinning in something like triumph. He adds mockingly, "It might be the  _only_  thing I haven't done in one of those showers, but regardless. If you don't get off, it doesn't count."

"Okay, more information than  _any_  of us needed, thanks." Brie says loudly, covering her ears with her hands for added emphasis.

"Yea, can we get back to the game, please?" Cody nearly barks, frustration evident in his tone, and the entire table suddenly turns its focus on the young wrestler. Colby obliges, though, just as eager to get the attention off of himself and his very recent post-work escapades.

"Yea, it's my turn, anyway." the high flyer responds, smirking at Randy now. "Never have I ever  _stalked someone_  for a phone number. Ass."

It's the Viper's turn to groan, taking a long swig off of his drink as everyone (sans Mike, who Colby notices is also taking a discreet drink.  _Huh_ , he thinks) erupts into near ear-piercing laughter, the alcohol apparently having its effect on the whole group.

"Oooh, sounds like you're getting a bit of a reputation as a creeper there, Orton." Nikki giggles, slapping at John's arm next to her as if part of an inside joke.

"Geez, you do something a small handful of times and suddenly you have a 'reputation'." Randy jokes as well, smirking as he squeezes Colby's thigh under the table hard enough to make the younger jump, shoot him a glare. Before he can say anything, though, Randy adds, "And here I thought you were enjoying yourself."

"Whether or not I've been enjoying myself has nothing to do with it." Colby replies, tacking on with a grin, "You're still  _kind_  of a creeper."

"And yet, you're still here. Must be  _something_  you like." Randy fires back, leaning a little too far into the aerialist's personal space for him to typically feel comfortable with surrounded by this many mere acquaintances of co-workers.

"Uhm, I..." is all he can manage in response, however, body heating up in a way that has  _nothing_  to do with the liquor.

Unfortunately, Nikki's reaction has  _everything_  to do with the liquor she's consumed when she asks just loud enough to be  _too fucking loud_ , "Yea, what is it you like there, Rollins? Is it his dick? Come on, you can tell us, we keep secrets. I promise."

Colby swallows thickly, growing more nervous by the second as he fidgets under the combination attack of Nikki's too-curious stare and Randy's still-roaming hands. Before he has a chance to even begin to think of a reply, however, Cody stands up from the table so fast that it rattles all of their drinks, nearly spilling a few. The glare that he shoots in Randy and Colby's direction has the younger's eyes snapping open wide, fear and confusion hitting him all at once as Cody yanks out his wallet. He nearly rips bills in half as he tugs them out, eventually having to turn his gaze to his money instead of his companions in his frustration.

"Yea, I think I'm about done. I'll see you guys later." he says quickly, anger lacing his tone as he finally pulls out the bills, drops the cash on the table. Without another look back at his co-workers, he turns and storms out of the bar, evidently headed back to the hotel alone.

Randy curses, releasing Colby's leg suddenly to slam a fist down onto the tabletop.

"I'll go after him." Kofi assures them, leaping up and darting out immediately after the boy as Randy runs his hands over his face.

"Whoa, someone's to-ouchy. Jealous much?" Nicole half-mocks, reaching for another long pull off her drink.

The Viper groans loudly, dropping his head into his hands and onto the table. "John? Please?"

Thankfully, John seems to catch his friend's utterly uncomfortable predicament the second the words are out of her mouth, taking the more intoxicated of the Bellas by the shoulders even as Randy speaks and standing her up, staring at her sister pointedly.

"Alrighty, well, I think this one has had about enough. Why don't you get her back to the hotel and up to bed, and I'll be there in a second?" Cena suggests.

Brie just nods, throwing an arm around her objecting twin and dragging her toward the door. John sighs as they leave, scrubbing a quick hand over his face as well. Colby just sits, stunned, still completely confused, and more than a little bit nervous.

"Hell of a party, boys. But, uh, Alex and I are gonna head out, too." Mike informs the remaining trio, lacing his fingers with the taller man's as he stands from the table as well.

John and Colby startle at the sound, evidently both having forgotten that there were even more people in their group. John spins around to face both of them, offering them an apologetic smile as they approach.

"Yea, guys, I'm really sorry about all the drama." Cena says, scratching at the back of his neck sheepishly. Mike smirks, opens his mouth to shoot back an obviously snarky response, but Alex beats him to it.

"It's fine. Girls and alcohol, right?" the younger replies instead, tugging a bit on Mike's hand as he speaks. Turning to Colby, he adds, "We'll see you guys some other time."

Then, they turn and leave as well, muttering between themselves the entire time. Colby stares after them for a moment, still moderately in shock at the couple's entire dynamic. He's quickly pulled from his thoughts, however, by Randy letting out an audible sigh against the table next to him, one that becomes an all-out groan by the end of it. He sits up, turning to Colby with an utterly miserable expression on his face. As the Viper reaches out, takes one of Colby's hands in both of his own under the table, the high flyer becomes vaguely aware of Cena moving about the table, collecting the cash that's already been distributed and heading to pay their tab, though most of his focus remains on Randy's face, their now-joined hands.

"I am  _so sorry_  about that, Colby. Honestly." the older man begins, blue eyes filled with something close to dispair, and Colby nearly loses his breath entirely at the sheer intimacy of the situation, especially as Randy starts again with, "There was just  _a lot_  that happened between Cody and I, and-"

"And that's really none of my business, seriously." Colby interrupts him, refusing to acknowledge any of the reasons Randy would feel the need to inform him about  _anything_  that had happened when he'd been with the youngest Rhodes boy. Randy shakes his head, though, gripping his hand tighter and opening his mouth, evidently not content to just let this drop here and now.

"I know that, but I really want to tell you-" Randy tries again, but this time, it's John who cuts him off, suddenly right back across the table from them.

"You guys ready?" Cena asks, whole body dripping with exaperation, and Colby can't help but nod, yanking his hand back from the Viper and standing up from the table in the same motion, decidedly not focused on the tattooed man beside him.

"More than ready." the high flyer mutters, circling the table to stand next to John and trying his damndest to ignore Randy's soft sigh as he passes.

The defeated expression that Randy wears as he joins the two of them to head to the door, back around the corner to the hotel, however, Colby can't ignore, the sadness emanating so thickly that the aerialist is sure Cena can feel it, too, thought confirmed when he catches the oldest shoot his friend an almost piteous look. The whole thing makes Colby feel like an ass for some reason, though he has no idea why it makes him ache that the Viper seems to feel  _so damn bad_. It does leave him overcome with the urge to comfort his companion, and part-way back, he reaches out, hand brushing Randy's enough to make the older turn to face him as they walk, expression morphing into somewhat of a smile.

"I know the rest of the night is pretty much blown, but can I at least walk you to your room?" Randy asks quietly, and John at least gives them the courtesy of pretending not to hear it, despite that Colby almost catches an angry sigh as he turns away from them.

And honestly, after everything that's happened tonight and just how un-fuck-buddy-like the whole evening has been, Colby knows he should decline, especially since it'd put his secret in extremely close proximity to his friends. But all it takes is him taking just a second too long to respond, Randy's face beginning to fall, and Colby can't even help nodding in agreement, steadily ignoring the voice in the back of his head telling him that this is a  _terrible_  idea.

 

**XXXXX**

 

When Randy makes the suggestion to walk Colby back to his room, he hopes that John will take the hint, head to his own room when he gets off on an entirely different floor, much lower than their own. He doesn't, though, apparently assuming after Cody's display at the bar that his friend will probably need a chaperone to ensure that nothing too drastic will take place in the wake of the chaos. At least, that's what Randy  _thinks_  his intentions are, until they near the youngest wrestler's room, and John catches him by the shoulder, pulling him a half-step back from Colby.

"Make this fast, okay?" John mutters, voice barely loud enough for Randy to catch the words, but the instant they register, he pulls to a halt, fixing his friend with a curiously angry stare.

"Excuse me?" Randy demands, and John scoffs, shakes his head as he moves to continue on. As he passes, Randy fires back lowly, "I'll take as long as I damn well please. You can always go back to  _your_ room, yknow."

"Not until after I talk to you." Cena responds, and this time, it's loud enough to make Colby look back at them as well, drawing an eye roll and a sigh from the Viper.

"Whatever," he mumbles, nearly shoving past his friend to take Colby's hand for the rest of the walk down the hall.

It's not far, and Randy's hardly holding the hand tightly, but the contact is apparently enough to have the high flyer nervous once more, shivers running through him the last few steps that Randy can feel even through their minimal contact. When they stop outside the door, Colby immediately drops the hand, reaching into his pocket instead to fish out his key card. He's barely pulled it from his pants when Randy is suddenly crowding into his personal space once more, walking them both backward until the boy's back bumps a little too roughly against the wall, head hitting sharply enough to make a sound that has Colby's eyes darting quickly to the door next to him. The Viper has other things in mind, though, bracing his forearms against the wall on either side of the younger's head and leaning in closer as if to box them in, shield them from the outside world for just a moment. No John, no Dean, no Roman, just  _Randy and Colby_  for just a few brief minutes. It seems to work, too, Colby's eyes flicking instantly back up to lock onto Randy's own. He swallows thickly, and Randy finds himself doing the same as he watches the movement of the high flyer's throat, before opening his mouth to say his piece.

"Look, Colbs," he starts, and right away, he can see the heat beginning to rise in the boy's cheeks. Taking a deep breath, he continues, "I really am sorry about how tonight went. Here I'm trying to fix whatever it is I fucked up to have you avoiding me in the first place, and all I manage to do is drag you into a bunch of dramatic bullshit that you're not even a part of. Which, I am going to tell you about at some point, I promise."

"I really don't get why you ne-" Colby tries to object again, but Randy's having none of it, too hard to get these words out as it is without the younger interrupting him.

"Because I do, alright? Because I think you should know about it. But, that's not tonight. Tonight, I'm just going to say goodnight, and go back to my room, and hope that you can forget what a complete trainwreck this evening was so that I can take a rain check on our... _earlier arrangement_  sooner rather than later. Okay?" the Viper finishes out, and Colby lets out a frustrated sigh, but nods, bringing a light, relieved smile to Randy's face.

When Colby mirrors the smile, Randy can't even help himself, leaning down and pressing his lips to it softly, right there in the hall. He almost thinks he hears an angry exhale from behind him, but it fades out the second he feels the aerialist's hands on his hips, pulling him the slightest bit closer as he relaxes into the kiss. Randy feels himself relax a bit finally, as well, kissing Colby a touch deeper before pulling back, taking in his now dazed expression. Taking a step back, he pats the younger on the cheek, watching with a chuckle as Colby shakes his head, seems to snap back to reality with embarassment as he takes in his surroundings.

Before he has a chance to panic, Randy leans in just enough to brush another quick kiss to the boy's forehead, muttering a soft, "Goodnight, Colbs. I'll see you later."

Suddenly, he feels himself being yanked several steps back with a large hand on his shoulder, John spinning him around and fixing him with a stare that is just this side of completely fed up.

"You and I need to have a talk." he demands, and Randy almost wants to glare at his friend as the older practically drags him away from a very confused Colby. Instead, he offers the high flyer a shrug and lets himself be led to the elevators.

Cena doesn't speak again until they reach his room, Randy following him all the way there fairly agreeably since he evidently has something serious on his mind. The second they're inside, however, the older man is slamming the door and turning on his friend with an almost angry expression.

"Just what in the hell are you thinking?" Cena snaps, voice loud enough to make Randy jump and shoot him a look of utter confusion.

"Excuse me?" the Viper fires back, stunned even further when the older seems to get even more heated at the words.

"You know  _exactly_  what I'm talking about. Colby? I mean, Christ, it's one thing to fuck him, but you know as well as I do that it is another thing  _entirely_  to form a  _relationship_  with a member of  _the Shield_ , one that bears a whole long list of consequences that I'm not even going to  _begin_  to get into right now. Did you even think about how pissed off Hunter is going to be if anyone even  _thinks_  about this around him?" John practically rants at him, agitation making the older man start to pace, and Randy suddenly can't fight his own glare, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

"About what? We  _are_  just fucking." Randy tells the other, adding, "Not that it's  _actually_  any of your business."

"Why don't you try selling that load of bullshit to someone who's buying?" Cena says, halting his movements to turn to Randy with narrowed eyes. He stares at the younger man almost accusingly as he continues, "I know you almost better than you know yourself, Orton, and don't you fucking forget that. I know when you have  _feelings_  for someone, and whether you're already in a relationship with the kid or not, this has  _definitely_  escalated beyond just 'feelings'."

"So what if it has?" the Viper finally snaps before he even fully processes the words he's saying. Not that John gives him much chance to regret them, barking out a laugh of complete disbelief as he almost marches closer, staring him down as he raves at his companion.

"'So what'...So what if it has? So, so what about Cody, Randy? Y'know, Cody who stormed out of a fucking  _bar_  over just how much he's  _not_   _over_  everything? Or have you suddenly sprouted a selective memory about all of that and just  _forgot_?" John questions, coming to a stop nearly in his friend's personal space, crossing his arms over his broad chest as if in an effort to keep calm.

"No, I didn't fucking  _forget_ ,  _John_. Christ." Randy replies with a scowl. Lowering his voice enough that he hopes John will miss it, he mumbles, "How the fuck could I?"

"Exactly!" Cena shouts in near desperation, because  _of course_  Randy couldn't get that lucky today. Voice still loud enough that the younger can only pray no one in the neighboring rooms can hear them, John continues, "So why,  _why_  in the hell would you want to do it all over again? You  _know_  the second that Hunter or Steph catch wind of it, they're going to make  _both_  of your lives a living hell, just like last time, and I am not about to fix things with not only Colby, but also his two hot-headed fucking friends whenever you decide, once again, that all the bullshit is not worth it."

"Well, maybe this time is different." Randy says somewhat resolutely, suddenly finding the floor much more interesting to look at than his friend as he adds, softer, "Maybe  _Colby_  is different."

Randy can't help the flinch as John scoffs, asking, "Oh yea? What makes him so damn different?"

And the Viper pauses at this, still pondering the floor as he thinks about the question. It's such a loaded question, too, because if he's completely honest, he has no clue what makes the young high flyer different, or if he's even  _that_  different from Cody at all. He hadn't even realized he'd thought about it at all until Cody had stormed out of the bar earlier, making entirely too many memories resurface that he hadn't even considered in well over a year. The only thing he  _is_  sure of right now is that everything in him had wanted to make sure things were alright with Colby, to make sure they ended the evening on a high enough note to ensure the other would keep in touch, keep coming back to him, even if it did mean keeping Cody at a distance for a while. That in itself was enough to have Randy backpedaling, reconsidering the feelings he's had for Colby for a while, feelings that John evidently thinks are pretty fucking strong.  _Maybe they are_ , a voice sounds off in the back of his head, and he shakes it, too full from the night as it is.

"Well?" John suddenly demands, ripping him from his thoughts, and he groans, turning his gaze back to his friend in frustration.

"I don't know what, dammit. And even if I did, it's  _none of your fucking business_. I'm an adult, and I can handle  _my life_  by myself." Randy tells the older through almost gritted teeth.

John just laughs loudly, evidently done with the conversation, informing the Viper almost dismissively as he turns back toward his things, "Yea? Alright, whatever, Randy. If that's honestly how you feel about it, whatever. Date the kid. Ruin both of your careers, and your fucking lives. But don't you dare come crying to me when all of this goes up in flames, got me?"

"Loud and fucking clear. Dick." Randy snaps, equally over talking to his friend for the night.

With that, he turns around himself and storms out of Cena's room, slamming the door behind him loud enough to potentially wake someone else down the hall. He couldn't be more annoyed as he makes his way down to his own room, fumbling the key card the first few times he tries to swipe it in the lock. Eventually, though, he manages to get it open, just to slam that door behind him just as hard as the last. Too heated to do anything else, he paces the floor of his room, letting the events of the night and the nightcap of a conversation run through his mind again at rapidfire speed. Maybe John's right, he thinks, maybe he does have feelings for Colby that far exceed those of a simple friend and fuck-buddy. But dammit, he tells himself, he's right, too! Colby is definitely different than Cody, very,  _very_  different, and one way or another, he intends to prove that, not only to John, but to the high flyer in question as well, and he can definitely think of one way to do it. Determined, he yanks his phone from his pocket, barely giving himself time to consider the idea before he puts it into action. Randy's unsure if it's the alcohol or the frustration of John's doubts that give him the courage to send the text, but once it's sent, he can't deny that he kind of likes the idea. With a nod of resolution, he lets his eyes trail over the words one last time before throwing his phone to the bed and heading to finally take an actual shower, maybe forget the stress of the day.

_So Colby, I've been thinking. How about you let me take you on an actual date?_


	9. Stay the Night

_~I know that we are upside down_   
_So hold your tongue, and hear me out_   
_I know that we were made to break_   
_So what? I don't mind_

_So, are you gonna stay the night?~_

 

And,  _no_ , Colby thinks the second he reads the text message the next morning,  _No, no, no, a thousand times no_. He is  _not_  going out on an actual date with Randy. Nope. Nuh-uh. Not in a million years is it going to happen, he tells himself. In fact, he can't think of a worse possible idea than going on a date with the older man. Dammit, they'd talked about this! This was why Colby had established  _rules_! So that they wouldn't be  _right here_ , so that neither of them would get this fucking  _attached_. But now, it appears that Randy is at least starting to, and the high flyer decides from the moment that realization strikes him that he's got to nip this thing in the bud here where it's beginning.

The problem is, he has no clue how to go about bringing it up, turning down this offer for more without severing the still growing friendship and outstanding physical relationship they have ( _because let's face it_ , part of him thinks,  _no reason to throw away perfectly good sex_ ). No matter how hard he wracks his brain, Colby can't figure out a way to approach the subject with Randy without sounding like a complete dick, and also a sex fiend. He spends days deliberating the matter, too, often getting so lost in thought that it takes Roman or Dean more than a few minutes to get his attention, and that has gotten beyond irritating, and embarassing. So finally, with no answer in sight and the next house show where he'll see Randy drawing ever closer, the high flyer makes an executive decision to do what all good booty-calls do when facing this awkward situation: he decides to ignore it.

And honestly, for the first few days, it seems to work out okay. He texts the Viper for the first time in nearly a week on the way to the arena, just a casual inquiry about the older's ETA for the evening, and when Randy responds in kind, no hint of the earlier question he'd posed, a wave of relief with an unexpected hint of sadness washes over the high flyer. Instead of focusing too much on it, however, Colby simply chalks the mere idea of a date up to the amount of alcohol they'd all consumed that night, as well as the chaos the evening had provided, and goes on about their normal business, discussing work and their crazy friends and setting up later hook-ups. Still, the younger can't help but be a bit nervous when he slips away for a quickie with the older later after his own match and before Randy's that the prospect will be brought up again, but this time, he'll be asked out in person, and he's not entirely sure how he'd react to that. Yet, even that tryst manages to go off without a hitch, as do the ones in the days that follow, and Colby allows himself to relax a bit, all thoughts of them actually going somewhere on a real date seemingly pushed from Randy's mind.

It's not until nearly a week and a half later that the offer is mentioned again, and damn if Randy doesn't wait until the perfect moment, tucked away in the furthest reaches of an arena after Raw.

"OhmyGod R-"

And it's all Colby can get out before Randy's hand claps over his mouth, pulls his whole body back against the larger one, his thrusts slowing as he continues to fuck into the younger. Randy presses his lips right against Colby's ear, voice a low growl as he speaks.

"What did I tell you about keeping quiet?" the older asks. Colby nearly shivers when he feels Randy smirk. "Unless you're  _trying_  to get us caught. You want someone to see us back here, kid?"

Colby shakes his head as best he can with Randy's hand still firmly locked over his mouth. That's the  _last_  thing he wants, though he's not sure if it's because of what he's doing or who it's with. But then, Randy's telling him to  _shut up_ ,  _then,_ punctuating the statement with a rough thrust in, and Colby can't really think about anything but that feeling. After a moment, Randy releases his grip on the younger, and Colby slumps forward, bracing himself on the wall once more. Large hands fall back to his hips as Randy picks the pace up again, driving into Colby without abandon. He uses the pitch of Colby's gasps the gauge the younger's reaction, decide what is too much, and hardly anything is, but when it is, he  _knows_ , and he slows himself down, lets the boy under him catch his breath.

Beneath the Viper, Colby claws at the wall the slightest bit, trying to find something,  _anything_  to hold onto as the pleasure overtakes him once more. It's so hard to stay quiet, even his gasps for air laced with whimpers, but he definitely doesn't want to get caught getting fucked backstage by Randy Orton, so he tries his damndest, covering his mouth with his own arm when it gets too difficult and biting down, hard. The action makes him slump forward even further, bracing himself against the wall with one strong forearm now. Randy drapes himself over the younger once more, one hand slipping around to tug at his dick, and Colby cries out around the skin between his teeth. The Viper just grins this time, though, pressing his lips to Colby's neck softly before speaking again.

"Is it that good, Colby? Think you're gonna cum already?" the older taunts, and Colby squeezes his eyes shut tight, shakes his head, refusing to be outdone like this. Randy laughs, and the feeling of it against Colby's skin makes the younger almost whine. He whispers, lips on Colby's shoulder, "Then I guess I have to work harder."

And that he definitely does, switching up the angle and driving in the slightest bit faster, thumb swiping over the head of Colby's cock every few pumps, and soon, the younger can't stop it, barely stifling a shout as his orgasm rips through him. Randy throws his head back at the feeling, a moan on his lips that brings a smile to Colby's face despite how roughly the older begins to pound into him. It's barely a breath after, though, that Randy is coming, too, hands gripping Colby's hips so hard that the younger is sure there are going to be bruises. Once he pulls out, though, Colby drops to trembling knees, forehead resting on the wall as he struggles to finally catch his breath. Randy regards him with an almost fond smile as he wipes off most of the mess from his hand next to the rest of the mess on the wall before them, peeling the condom off and throwing it down the hallway before collapsing next to Colby. The younger quickly turns to him with a panicked look at the sight, and Randy can't help but laugh.

"Don't worry. Everyone's been cleared out of this hallway for over an hour." he says with the same light smile. "No one's even here to catch us."

"You asshole!" Colby exclaims with a half-glare, shoving his companion.

Randy laughs, pushing himself to sit back up with one hand, wrapping the other around Colby's shoulders and turning the younger to face him. A breath away from the boy's face, Randy mutters, "Tell me you didn't like it. That nervous shiver that runs down your spine just thinking that  _anyone_  could come around the corner and see. The very idea that someone could catch us at any moment, make some commotion, tell  _everyone_."

"Yea, well..." Colby trails off, snatching the older's lips into a quick kiss in lieu of a response, but the Viper just grins into it. It's soft, chaste, and when they seperate, Randy carefully stands up, reaching a hand down to help Colby stand as well. The younger slides his pants back up as he stands, Randy handing him his shirt when the older dips back down to grab his own trunks off the floor. Colby laughs when Randy simply pulls a shirt over his head, and the Viper shoots him a curious look. Colby explains, "Your thing with pants, man. I just don't get it."

"Maybe I just don't like pants. What's wrong with not liking pants?" Randy replies jokingly, backing Colby up to lean against the wall, hands on either side of the younger's head, as he lowers his voice. "Besides, don't you get more out of me  _not_  wearing pants?"

Suddenly, the high flyer finds himself flashing back to the last time they were in this position, and just how emotional the situation had been, and he finds he can't breathe, can't form any solid thoughts to even reply. Thankfully, he doesn't even get a chance to respond, because then Randy's kissing him again. This one is anything but chaste, the Viper immediately deepening it the second that Colby begins to react to it, tongue tangling with the boy's own for a moment as if he has no plans to let him go. Colby slides his hands up to grab onto Randy's biceps, squeeze them momentarily before using them to ease the older out of the kiss before they both become too consumed in each other once more. Randy only backs up the slightest bit, however, brushing his re-erect cock against the younger's leg with a smirk. Colby just rolls his eyes, smiling at his companion.

"You are  _insatiable_ ," Colby informs him, slipping out from beneath the older's arm, taking a few small steps away as he continues, "And as much as I'd love to hang around in the back hallway of an arena here with you for another round, I do have roommates to get back to. Roommates who are going to be pretty curious, once again, as to my whereabouts after the show."

"Jesus, just tell them we're having sex already." Randy says, fake exasperation in his voice, trying to snatch at the younger's hips, drag him close again, but Colby manages to stay just out of reach, shakes his head.

"Nuh uh. You know I don't fuck and tell." Colby objects, beginning to back away down the hall, wearing a half-smirk of his own. "Not until it's an actual relationship."

"Well then, when are you going to let me take you out on a date?" Randy questions, having to almost yell to reach across the distance Colby has put between them.

And there it is, the high flyer thinks, nearly stumbling over his feet at the words. Thankfully, he's far enough away from the Viper that he's almost sure Randy won't try to actually goad him into a full conversation, but still, he fumbles for a response, finally settling on a joke at the last possible moment.

"When you learn to wear pants." Colby calls out, shooting the older a wink that he's sure Randy barely sees.

Then, he's gone, darting around the corner in what he hopes is the right direction of the Shield's locker room for the night before Randy can get another word out about dating. He only makes it a few feet, however, completely lost in the sound of his heartbeat loud in his ears, before a heavy hand suddenly claps down on his shoulder, startling him so much he almost screams out loud. It doesn't help his nerves AT ALL when it's Roman's voice that accompanies the hand, hot on his ear as it takes the breath right from his lungs when the older leans in to speak.

"Y'know, Colbs, the thing about fucking around with co-workers is that you probably shouldn't do it  _at_  work, where  _any_  of your other co-workers could walk up on it. That is, unless you  _want_  everyone to find out." Roman says, turning his friend around slowly to meet his eyes as he talks. Still smiling, he adds, "But, considering you haven't even mentioned it to your  _best friends_  yet, I kind of doubt that fact."

Colby swallows thickly, unable to form thoughts properly. He flounders for a moment, having to open and close his mouth a few times before he can even get sound past his suddenly too-dry lips, and even when he does finally speak, it's not a real response, just broken pieces.

"It's just...we're not...Rome, I..." the younger eventually trails off, at a loss as to where he should even begin, wide brown eyes still tinged with panic as he stares at his friend.

Roman simply holds his hands up in front of him in something akin to surrender, though, effectively stopping Colby mid-thought.

"Hey, I'm not asking for an explanation. It's not really my business what you do with your dick, man. You don't have to tell me shit until you're good and ready. Me  _or_  Dean." Roman tells him, confirming at Colby's curious expression, "I won't say anything until you do."

The high flyer lets out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding, nearly slumping over in relief right onto his friend.

"God,  _thank you_ , Roman. Seriously. I owe you one so huge, you don't even  _know_." Colby rushes out, grabbing the older's hand and clinging to it for a moment.

Roman laughs, shaking his companion off of him and grinning at him.

"You don't owe me shit, kid." the Samoan says, clapping the boy on the shoulder instead as he begins to walk them down the hall. He shoots the younger a raised eyebrow, though, asking playfully, "Really, though? Randy? Dean had his money on Cena."

" _What?!_   _No!_  Gross, man. Just...no." Colby replies, ducking out from under Roman's arm to fully turn to him with an almost offended look. He shakes his head as if to physically clear the thought from it, turning a corner with his friend as they continue on toward their locker room. He huffs out a light sigh, scrubbing a hand over his face as he half-explains, "I don't really even know what this thing  _is_  with Randy anymore, man, but the second I do, I'll let you know."

"And I'm here whenever you do." Roman adds, offering his friend a smile as the younger brings them to a stop by a flight of stairs leading to a higher level of the basement.

"I appreciate that, Rome, more than you realize." Colby tells the Samoan, trying his best to return the smile despite everything that's swirling around his head at the moment.

"I bet I have a pretty good idea." Roman responds, his face taking on a knowing smirk before he begins to ascend the stairs first.

The high flyer pulls to a halt, though, muttering a quick, "Hey, hold up. I still need to uhm. Grab my stuff."

And this makes the older laugh out loud, reaching out to ruffle Colby's still-messy hair.

"Alright, go get changed. Dean already left, so I can keep the car running. But seriously, you got ten minutes, or you can cab it back. I ain't waiting around for you to have another orgasm down there." he informs the younger, laughing even louder at the shade of red Colby's face takes on at his words. The boy just grumbles an agreement, though, heading toward their locker room while Roman turns to head up the stairs.

By the time Colby gets to the room, his ears are still ringing, mind alight with everything that's managed to transpire all in a matter of minutes, how  _different_  things are now, where he's even supposed to go from here, now that  _Roman fucking knows_. He's so distracted by his own thoughts that he doesn't realize that he's, yet again, not alone until an irritated voice nearly gives him a heart attack for the second time of the evening.

"For the love of God, please tell me the two of you weren't having sex in the arena." John asks.

This time, Colby actually does let out a rather undignified scream, throwing the shirt he'd picked up across the room. He turns to Cena with wide eyes, and the older man has the nerve to actually sigh at him, crossing his arms as he leans back in his chair. The whole situation does nothing but frustrate the high flyer, however, sending all of his emotions from the last hour smoothly into anger. His wide eyed expression turns to a glare and he snatches his shirt from the floor, tugging it on before focusing completely on Cena.

"Maybe we were. So what?" Colby practically snaps, dropping to pack his bag up, throwing things into it.

"So, you shouldn't fucking be doing it." John replies with his own undertone of anger, pushing himself from the chair and coming to stand almost directly in front of the younger man. Colby zips up his bag with a new aggression before standing himself and locking onto the blue eyes before him.

"Which part? Having sex, or having sex  _here_?" Colby fires back, cocky smirk replacing the glare for a moment, until Cena speaks again.

"If I'm honest? All of it is a bad idea." the older says, and Colby's glare comes right back, even as the anger seems to leave John's voice.

"Man, what the fuck is your deal? You come in here telling me to talk to him and now you're telling me to leave him alone. Why do you care?" the high flyer demands, and John lets out another sigh, scrubbing a huge hand over his face before meeting the brown-eyed gaze again.

" _Randy_  is my fucking deal, and I care because I care about him, dammit." John responds, and Colby scoffs.

"And I don't? I care about him, too, John." the younger tells him, unsure why he feels so damn defensive about it.

John cuts him off before he can continue, though, adding, "It's not the same."

Something in the look he's wearing as he says it, his stance through the conversation, has the younger completely unable to keep his mouth shut.

"What, are you  _jealous_  or something? Are you in  _love_  with him?" Colby asks, the very vocalization of the thought sending a feeling coursing through him that he'd rather not acknowledge. He's more relieved than he'd like to admit when Cena instantly denies it with an eye roll.

"No, I'm not in love with him." John says as if he's answered the question a million times before. It's like a punch to Colby's gut, however, when he immediately follows it up with, "But neither are you. Not yet, if ever."

"So  _what_?" the high flyer questions, not even giving Cena the chance to answer before he snaps with a dark edge to his voice, "Maybe I'm not in love with him, but you have no clue how I feel, so don't fucking act like you do."

"I may not know completely how you feel, but what I do know is that he  _does_  have feelings for  _you_ ," John informs Colby, his own voice gaining a dark tone as he adds, "And I'm not going to let him get hurt again. Sneaking around having sex a few times is one thing, but you two have taken this to a completely different level. Regardless of your feelings, this whole thing is a bad idea, Colby, one that's not going to pan out well for either of you. And it needs to stop."

The words come out like a warning, a borderline threat, and it takes a moment for Colby to digest them. It's another few moments before he can respond, too many thoughts hitting him all at once. Finally, Colby simply snatches his bag off the floor determined to leave before he explodes. Still, he can't exit before leaving John with one final statement, one that he spits with a venom that could rival Randy.

"Y'know what, John? You need to mind your own fucking business. Randy's a big kid, and so am I. If we want to have sex, you're the  _last_  person who's going to tell us we can't. Fuck off." he snaps.

Then, he's slamming the door in Cena's angry face, nearly running all the way from the basement to the parking lot in an effort to put as much distance between he and John as he can manage. By the time he reaches the rental car, he's shaking, and he's almost certain it's more from his irritation than from the run. He does his best to mask it in front of Roman, though, already dealing with more than enough in  _that_ department for one day. If the Samoan notices, he doesn't say anything, and he's even blessedly silent about Colby's sexual situation throughout the ride as well. As they're pulling up to the hotel, the high flyer decides he really couldn't have asked for a better set of friends, and he vows to himself to tell them all about Randy the moment he gets this whole thing figured out. In the back of his head, though, a voice that sounds way too much like John Cena's reminds him,  _if_  he gets it figured out. He shakes his head in an effort to clear it, grabbing his bag from the back seat. He meant what he'd said. He's not listening to Cena about this.

Unfortunately, once he gets back to the Shield hotel room and his friends begin to unwind for the night, it's as if John's voice gets turned on full blast inside his brain, parts of the conversation repeating on a loop in his head.  _'All of it is a bad idea,' 'he_ does _have feelings for_  you _', 'you two have taken this to a completely different level,' 'it needs to stop'_. Colby tries to focus on the TV, Dean and Roman already falling quiet, but the more time ticks on, the louder his mind gets. Finally, he can't stand it anymore, and he practically leaps from the bed, snatching the first pair of shorts he finds in his bag and stepping into his shoes, not bothering with socks or a shirt as he tugs on a hoodie instead. Dean and Roman both regard him with curious expressions as he grabs his phone off the bedside table, unplugging it from the charger.

"I'm going for a walk. I'm too antsy." he mutters, shaking his head at Roman's raised eyebrow and near-amused smirk.

"Be safe." the older jokes, but Colby just isn't in the mood, shutting the door instead of responding.

Roman isn't wrong, though, because it's Randy's room he winds up outside of the second the Viper texts back that he's awake. Randy opens the door with a wide grin, but it falls once he takes in the look on the younger's face.

"What's up?" Randy asks, but Colby shakes his head, pushing him into the room and kicking the door shut before practically tackling the older man, stealing the breath from his lungs in a deep kiss and nearly shoving him toward the bed. When they finally come up for air, sweaty and sated once more, Randy tries the question again, still hovering over Colby's naked, panting form as he ponders aloud, "What was all that about?"

Colby dodges eye contact and the question once more, grabbing the already opened bottle of water off the nightstand and chugging some down before finally meeting Randy's waiting gaze, telling him, "I just had some stuff I really needed to get out of my head about."

"Well, I certainly hope all that effort paid off. I can't remember the last time I hooked up three different times in one day." Randy replies with a laugh, taking the bottle from Colby's hand and drinking some himself as Colby nods, thinking to himself,  _I hope so, too_.

As the Viper sets the bottle back on the nightstand, he takes note of the time on the alarm clock, grabbing the younger's arm as Colby slides out of bed and reaches for his clothes.

"Hey, it's late." he says, nodding toward the early AM hour displayed in bright red numbers. He looks nervous, and it brings everything the high flyer was avoiding back to the forefront, Randy's voice almost small as he suggests somewhat timidly, "You should just stay here."

Colby bites back a sigh, albeit not one of frustration, stilling in his movements mid-redress as he mutters, "You know I can't."

Randy doesn't bite back his sigh, dropping to the bed almost petulantly with a heave of, "Fuck, I know. Still doesn't stop me from trying."

"Why is that, anyway? Catching feelings, Randal?" Colby pulls on his hoodie to avoid even glancing at the Viper as he says it. His tone may be joking, but the words he very much means, John's voice still hot in his ears even all these hours later, still feeling very much like a warning. He can't ignore them now that he's not otherwise occupied, and he almost wants to kick himself for even asking as the question seems to hang in the air for a moment.

Colby can't believe how horrible he feels when, finally, Randy responds with a soft, "Maybe I am."

The high flyer sucks in a sharp breath, nearly stumbling as he steps into his shoes.

"I'll talk to you later." he rushes out, not even looking back at the Viper on the bed as he practically slams the door behind him.


	10. Timber/Counting Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel awful about how long it takes me to update things sometimes, and I hope you all don't hate me for it! I've got a lot of health problems, both mental and physical, that kind of keep me tied up a lot more than I'd like, but I promise this whole fic, all three parts of the planned trilogy, will be finished in a somewhat timely fashion! I'm pretty proud I finally finished this chapter, considering how long I've been working on it. Honestly, part of this was like, the third piece of this entire universe that I even started, and now here we are about three years out from the official start date of me beginning writing, and it's finally finished. I hope you're all as proud of it as I am. I really can't wait to get into the rest of the story from here, because we're finally making headway. Hahaha. Hope you enjoy! :)

_~Lately, I've been, I've been losing sleep_   
_Dreaming about the things that we could be_

_I feel so right doing the wrong thing_

_Let's make a night you won't remember._   
_I'll be the one you won't forget~_

 

Another day, another city, another show, another tiny bar close enough to the hotel to be able to walk back when he inevitably gets too drunk but far enough away to not be stalked by fans the entire time. It's somewhat of a routine Colby has unintentionally fallen into since he last time he and Randy had hooked up, the night of the confrontation with John a few weeks ago. It's not that he's purposely trying to avoid the Viper so much as his heart jumps so far into his throat every time he's even in the same airspace as the older man that he can't manage to figure out how to speak. So, rather than standing around trying to stumble through a sentence, or sending an awfully worded text, Colby has been avoiding the situation entirely. Randy just happens to be a casualty of that fact, he tells himself, flagging down the bartender and ordering his third double of the night so far, desperate to rid his mind of the thoughts once more. Of course, his life won't let him do that, though, the all too familiar voice next to him nearly making him jump off the barstool.

"Make it two. And start a tab, please." Randy tells the bartender, sliding down next to the high flyer as he pulls out his card and ID. Turning to Colby as the girl walks away, Randy tries to joke, "We have got to stop meeting like this."

"You don't always have to hunt me down in bars." the younger replies.

"Well, so far it's been an effective way to get you to stop avoiding me. Why break a good streak?" the Viper fires back, the smirk on his face anything but humorous.

Colby slams half the new drink the second it's in front of him before even attempting to respond, lump rising once again in his throat. Finally, he manages, "I haven't been avoiding you."

"Could have fooled me." Randy returns quickly, and Colby almost flinches, watching the older slam his entire drink and order two more.

"Can I at least explain?" Colby asks, and the Viper sighs, looking down at the bar as if contemplating his words before turning and fixing the high flyer with his blues.

"It's what I said that night, isn't it?" Randy questions, and Colby shakes his head, regretting the movement even as it does it, the way it sends his vision into almost a spin.

"No it's not that. Well, kind of? But not because of you. Ugh, let me explain this all to you, okay?" the younger tries, hating the way the alcohol he's already consumed is making it more difficult than normal to articulate his thoughts. He takes a deep breath, downs the other half of the shot he'd left for a bit more courage and grimaces slightly, then turns to Randy, still unsure how to start. What finally comes out is, "John came to talk to me again."

Randy's heavy fist on the bar makes not just Colby jump, the bartender shooting them a warning glance that the Viper's stare quickly turns back away. He lets out a harsh sigh, not even looking at the younger as he nearly growls, "John needs to mind his own damn business."

"Yea, I told him as much." the high flyer responds, and this manages to get half a laugh out of the older man, Randy smirking at him.

"Did you?"

"Yea." Colby returns, grinning himself for a moment. He picks up the second double Randy had ordered and swirls the liquid around in the glass for a moment, staring at it instead of the blue eyes fixed on him as he continues to ponder what to say, how he's really supposed to explain himself. He takes a small sip of the liquor and says softly, "It's just...he said some things...and sometimes I overthink things-"

Randy cuts him off with a scoff of, "Sometimes. Try most of the time."

At this, Colby does turn to the older, fighting a glare. Randy doesn't even flinch, holding his smirk solid. Colby just rolls his eyes.

"Whatever. Regardless," he continues, taking another steadying breath to try and take the edge off his deepening slur, "A few of the things he said got stuck in my head, and I didn't know how to approach you about  _any_  of it, because I'm not even really sure how  _I_  feel about any of it, so how am I ever supposed to talk to  _you_  about it? So I just keep thinking, and drinking, and avoiding the situation entirely and- what the hell is so funny?"

The Viper is indeed laughing, chuckling to himself behind his now empty glass. As he flags down the bartender again, probably too soon, he tells Colby, "You, kid. You're so wrapped up in your thoughts, you can't even talk straight."

"In my defense, some of that is the liquor." the high flyer fires back, and making the older grab both glasses as they land in front of the two of them.

"Oh yea? Then do you really need any more?" Randy questions with a smirk, holding one of the glasses just out of Colby's reach, the second one cradled close to him.

"I didn't  _need_  any of this shit, but that hasn't stopped me so far." Colby almost snaps, and the older relents, handing him the glass. Even Randy knows the boy had been talking about more than just the liquor.

There's a moment of silence as Randy decides to sip on his drink this time, let the younger sort out his thoughts before he finally says, "What'd my asshole friend say that has you avoiding our entire situation, and me by proxy?"

Colby seems to really think about his words now, his whole face contorting with the effort. Eventually, he almost spits out, "Do you have feelings for me?"

"Does it really matter?" Randy instantly replies, almost the second the words have left the younger's mouth.

"Maybe." Colby mutter in response, and the Viper's expression grows puzzled.

"Why?" he questions, and Colby almost groans.

"Because!" the high flyer snaps, voice almost frustrated. "Because that's not what this was! This wasn't supposed to be a relationship! This wasn't even really supposed to be a  _friendship_ , no matter  _what_  it's turned into! And if you  _like_  me now, then it's not...it's not..."

His speech breaks off into a sigh, and he turns away from Randy as something close to guilt hits him at his real reasoning. Finally, he mutters softly, "It's not simple anymore."

Randy coughs out a laugh again, this one less humorous, and rests a soft hand on Colby's shoulder.

"I hate to break it to you, kid, but this thing ain't been simple from the get-go." the Viper informs the boy. Fixing him with a stare, he adds, "Hell, I had to chase you down in a bar to get you to talk to me in the first place."

The younger flushes more than just from the alcohol, but he does smile the slightest bit, so Randy trudges on.

"We've been hiding in actual closets, lying to our friends, barely talking about anything that we're doing here. None of this has been simple in any way, Colbs. At least not for me. So why do you care now?" he asks, discreetly motioning for his check. Locking eyes with hazy brown ones, he tells the high flyer seriously, "I certainly don't."

Colby breaks the eye contact, choosing instead to focus on his hands where they sit on the bar before him. He seems to ponder the words for a few long minutes, giving the older time to cash out and leave a more than excellent tip to hopefully excuse his outburst. By the time Colby turns back to his companion, he still seems to deep in thought, but decidedly more firm in his thoughts, albeit swaying slightly in his movements.

"You really don't care? Even if things stay the way they are?" the younger questions, and Randy knows he's beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol himself as he leans forward, in front of the emptying bar, and tucks some stray hair behind Colby's ear before bracing himself on the high flyer's thighs to speak directly to him.

"I promise you, Colby. Why fuck up a good thing?" the Viper says more than asks, smirk widening across his face. "Why not just keep up what we've been doing, that's been working oh so well, and just see where it goes?"

Colby begins to grin a bit now, too, nodding slightly. He tells his companion, "You make a valid point."

"I know." Randy replies, normal cocky swagger back in his voice. He bumps his forehead against Colby's more for focus than he'd like to admit. "See, you get to talking to people, and you start thinking too damn much."

The high flyer laughs at this, and almost goes for a kiss, and it's that motion that brings their surroundings back to Randy with a start. He masks it well, though, smiling at the boy and pulling back just enough for Colby to realize they're in public as well. Then, he squeezes Colby's hand under the bar, meeting his eyes again as he offers a solution.

"So how about instead of all that bullshit, we go back to my room and do some things that involve much, much less talking." the Viper suggests, and the high flyer nods faster this time.

"Get the check." the boy demands.

Randy's grin spreads, turns near predatory as he responds, "It's already paid."

 

**III**

 

They're having to lean on each other fully for support by the time the two of them make it back to Randy's hotel room, Colby's fingers digging into Randy's shoulders like he needs the older to keep upright. Or maybe it's just to stay balanced as he starts to trail kisses across a tattooed shoulder, Randy realizes, laughing at the boy and pulling him close. Thankfully, he manages to get the door unlocked in the same instant, because the movement throws Colby just enough off balance that he stumbles into Randy harshly, almost taking them both down as they crash into the room. The (barely) more sober of the two, Randy keeps on his feet, though, taking Colby by the shoulders this time and steadying him, too.

"Careful, now! Don't wanna wipe out when we've made it this far!" the Viper tells him with a wide grin, trying to meet hazy, dark eyes, but Colby's far too occupied with his attempt to kick off his shoes.

"Fuck careful." the high flyer says, finally toeing off one, then the other before turning back to the older with a matching grin. "Careful is boring."

Randy doesn't even get a chance to respond, because then, Colby is shoving him backwards to sit on the bed, clumsily tugging off his shirt and pants before nearly pouncing up after him. Randy just laughs, taking the younger's flushed face in his hands and drawing him into a messy kiss, diving right in and stealing the breath from him in a low moan. Colby's hands come up to cling to Randy's shoulders again, much the same way he had been at the door, but with more desperation, and the Viper smirks into the kiss. He lets one hand slide back just enough for him to tangle his fingers in dark hair, and before the younger can catch his breath from the feeling, Randy's yanking his head back, lips dropping to his neck in one swift movement.

"Careful is boring, huh?" Randy mutters right against the boy's throat, and he can feel the vibration under his lips when Colby moans, nodding as much as he can. And perhaps this isn't the best time to do something like this, but Randy's pretty drunk, too, so he asks anyway, "Well then, why the hell haven't we thought of a safe word yet?"

The fact that he can  _feel_  the young aerialist laugh shouldn't turn him on as much as it does, but he finds himself biting back a groan nontheless, physically biting it back with teeth sinking into his lips as Colby replies, "Because you haven't brought it up."

Randy releases the grip on his hair just enough for the younger to meet his gaze, overconfident smirk set onto both of their faces. They're barely a breath away from each other as Randy suggests, "Fine. We'll do it now. Quick, first random word that comes to your mind."

"Grapefruit." Colby immediately fires back, and this is  _definitely_  not what the older was expecting.

"Wait, what? Grapefruit, seriously?" the Viper asks with a grin, and Colby laughs.

"You said the first thing that came to mind! That's what the fuck the bartender was mixing our shots with! I think." the high flyer explains, shoving at Randy's shoulder as best he can. "Now, come on, are you gonna sit here and make fun of my choice of safe word, or are we gonna try it out?"

 _Little brat_ , Randy thinks, but lets out a low growl instead, using his hold on Colby's hair as leverage to flip their positions, laying the younger out and hovering over him now. The gasp that the movement draws from Colby's lips makes the older's grin widen, even as he leans down to capture another kiss. He sinks his teeth into the high flyer's lower lip near instantaneously, Colby dragging his nails down Randy's shoulderblades, around to the Viper's chest in reponse. Suddenly, he's pushing the older back roughly, struggling to catch his breath as he meets Randy's eyes once again.

"Wait, so if we just decided on a safe word, does that mean it's for you, too?" Colby asks almost shyly, still kind of panting, and Randy nearly chokes.

He never really imagined this kind of question coming from his companion, but now that they're both smashed, here it is, and he can't help but stammer out, "I-I guess?"

"Awesome."

Colby exhales the word, and Randy would be lying if he said it didn't make him the slightest bit harder. What  _doesn't_  help the situation is the part where Colby nearly throws the Viper off of him, stumbling over to Randy's bags in the corner of the room so quickly and clumsily that Randy momentarily worries about his safety. Still, he can't help but admit there's something slightly endearing about watching the younger drop down and rifle through his suitcase, determination fixed on his face as he tries to find whatever it is he's looking for. Randy tries to push the thought to the back of his mind, though, especially when Colby suddenly perks up, wide grin spreading over his face as he looks over something in one of the older's nicer suitcases, eyes glinting as he examines whatever it is he's found. Then, the high flyer is hurrying back over to the bed, three of Randy's ties that Hunter has forced upon him for nicer events clutched tightly in smaller hands, and the Viper feels his breath catch.

As Colby settles back on top of him where the older has scooted back closer to the headboard, Randy asks, trying to keep the nerves out of his voice, fingering the ties himself as a means of distraction, "And what are we going to do with those?"

And the high flyer is so drunk, he actually  _giggles_ , and Randy almost loses it right there, hands dropping to take a tight hold of the boys hips. Colby's eyes dart from the older's eyes to the ties and back, smirk drawn across his face.

"No way. That'd ruin it! You can't tell me we can have a fucking safe word and not actually try to  _use the fucking safe word_ , Randy." he says, focusing on his companion even as he removes the Viper's hands from his waist by the wrists, ties still threaded between his fingers. He leans in closer, nearly sharing the same air as he tells Randy, "You just have to trust me. And say 'grapefruit' if I go too far."

Randy takes a slow, deep breath in through his mouth that he almost certainly half stole from Colby, and nods, voicing a soft agreement as he lets his arms fall pliant, be tugged above his head by the younger. The high flyer seems to know exactly what he's doing as he fashions a restraint for both of Randy's wrists out of one of the ties, fastening it around the actual bedframe with the second. When Colby pulls back looking fairly smug, the Viper gives his arms a test tug, finding them more secure than he expected. He waits for Colby to discard the third tie, figures it's unneeded now, but then suddenly, the younger is pulling it tight between both his hands, leaning in, and the Viper's vision of Colby's smirk is replaced by the black of the fabric, only the feeling of the movement telling him that it's been fastened around the back of his head. His breathing quickens and he wriggles a bit in his restraints, but other than that, remains relatively still under the younger man. Still, Colby's voice has an edge of nervousness to it when it hits Randy's ears.

"You okay?" the boy questions, still trying to remain confident, and Randy nods, refusing to admit he's struggling to maintain his breathing.

"Yea, 'm good." he manages, "Just keep going."

And Colby does, careful hands making their way up and down the older's sides slowly, letting him adjust for a moment to the lack of movement, lack of sight, neither of which Randy has dealt with in longer than he can remember. He breathes through it, though, focuses his senses on the feeling of Colby's fingers as they begin to drift futher south, knead into his hips a bit. When one of the hands eventually makes contact with his cock, brushes over just the head, the Viper lets out a groan despite himself, hips arching up off the bed and arms tugging at the ties around them. The high flyer chuckles above him, grabbing onto his dick and giving it a few firm tugs, and Randy can practically see the cocky smirk on the kid's face at the sight he must make nearly squirming on the bed, a soft curse falling from his lips.

"Yea, you're good." Colby parrots back the words from earlier, hands falling away from Randy entirely, and the older doesn't even care about his frustrated groan now, even when it draws another, louder laugh from the younger man.

Randy feels the boy completely climb off of him now, and he opens his mouth to protest the movement, demand the high flyer back, but then he hears the bag he keeps by the nightstand being unzipped and he falls silent, knows what items are being extracted from it. His thoughts are confirmed when Colby fumbles his way back onto the bed, taking the Viper's ankles and shifting them up closer to his ass. He swallows around the sudden lump in his throat, mind racing as his hips are lifted and a pillow is clumsily shifted under them, but suddenly his cock his engulfed in wet, tight heat and it's all he can focus on, Colby's tongue working overtime to calm him down. That is, until he hears the snap of the lube cap, can hear it being squeezed from the tube thanks to the blindfold and suddenly, he's all tension again, muscles flexing against his will. The younger pulls off of his dick with a wet noise and half a gasp, hand without the lube rising up to almost pet at Randy's inner thigh, rub at the muscles to try and relieve the strain.

"Hey, relax. You know what you're doing here, Rand, it's better if you relax." the high flyer says, pressing soft kisses to the leg he's not touching. It only works the slightest bit, and Colby frowns down at the Viper, wiping the lube on the bedspread, muttering a soft, "Here, let me."

Then, he's grabbing Randy's hips again, lifting them off the pillow to the best of his highly inebriated ability, and the older nearly melts into Colby's grasp when he feels the hot breath on his entrance, tongue instantly following, pressing flat against the rim. Colby shifts his grip so that he can circle a hand around, fumble for Randy's dick as he works the older's ass, and he's rewarded for his effort with a sharp gasp, the Viper nearly panting above his head. And Randy can't even help it, the sensational overload from the younger's hand and tongue nearly too much when it's all he has to focus on, even the wet sounds of his ass being eaten making him almost impossibly harder. He's so pliant by the time the high flyer slides a finger in with his tongue that he almost misses the burn from it. Almost, but not quite, and he still can't stop the sound that's much higher pitched than he'd like from slipping out when the finger instantly begins to move in tandem with the hand on his cock. He hears Colby chuckle again, ass dropping back to the pillow as the boy's mouth falls away from it, and feels his face heat up, and definitely not because he's turned on.

"See? Relax." Colby tells the older again, grin evident in his voice, and Randy does his best, breathing deeper than before.

It's easier to follow the younger's orders now, though, even when he hears the lube being squeezed out again. Colby slows his hand as he withdraws his finger, adds another and a generous amount of lube with it so he can twist them just slightly. It makes the Viper arch off the bed again, practically whimper as Colby lets them both trail dangerously slowly across the spot that he's found within the older man. After a few solid, drawn out minutes of careful fingering, the high flyer scissors them, Randy tugging at his restraints roughly and cursing as another finger, more lubricant is added to his opening. When the fingers twist again, knuckle deep inside him, he nearly shouts, feeling a sharp burn in his wrists as he continues to pull the ties, and the boy presses a wet kiss to the head of his cock, hand speeding up.

Randy is practically a mess from the finger fucking alone, and he's barely coherent as he half-babbles out, "Colb-Colby, baby, you have to, have to do it,  _fuck_ , have to fuck me  _now_ , or I'm-I'm gonna..."

"Yea. O-okay, yea." Colby replies, immediately removing both hands from the older man, glad he's got Randy blindfolded so the Viper can miss his temporary lack of composure, the way he drops the condom package twice from suddenly trembling hands.

He takes in the sight before him as he finally manages to roll the condom on, Randy's sweaty, bound, shaking form making his mouth go more dry than the alcohol already had been. He clears his throat, swallows around his nerves as he tugs at his own dick for a moment, pulls himself back into the headspace he'd begun this encounter in. Trying to ignore the way the room tilts a bit as he shuffles back into place, he grabs Randy's hips with a renewed aggression, nearly yanking them from the pillow as he lines himself up.

"Sure you're ready?" the high flyer double-checks, hoping his cockiness is back in his voice.

And it must be, because Randy growls out through gritted teeth, " _Fucking do it._ "

Colby obeys the command, burying himself to the balls almost too fast, because Randy actually does scream this time, a loud curse as he punches at the wall, only thing he can do in the restraints. The younger doesn't follow their typical pace, fucking into the Viper slowly, hardly moving to let both of them adjust to a feeling neither have experienced in far too long. Eventually, though, Randy is muttering his name softly, and Colby takes the hint, lifting the older's hips more to pick up speed. The adjusted pace makes the boy's vision swim, the all the movement making him dizzy, but he fights through it, nearly folding Randy in half to capture his lips in a messy kiss. He puts all of his focus into that, gripping Randy's hips hard enough that there are sure to be bruises as he pounds into him.

Randy is grateful for the kiss at the sudden position change, the boy's cock now dragging over his spot just enough to send sparks lighting off behind his eyes. He's equally thankful for the amount of alcohol they both consumed for keeping their orgasms at bay for this long, the Viper sure he probably would have cum from the fingering alone under different circumstances. Now that the high flyer is fucking into him seemingly with a purpose, it's all he can do to hold back, especially as a hand wraps around his dick and matches the speed of the thrusts inside him. He breaks away from the kissing, an absolute litany of curses pouring from him as he shakes his head back and forth wildly, tries to stave off his oncoming orgasm. When Colby's name replaces the cursing, the younger matches it with Randy's name on his own lips, forehead dropping to the Viper's with a thud. Randy digs his nails into his own palms, tugs hard at the ties as he ever as when he finds he can't hold back any longer, hot cum painting his own abs and almost definitely coating Colby's as well.

He can feel his ass tighten around the younger, and he nearly chokes, senses on overload as the boy's thrusts become erratic. His breath slams back into him in a loud groan when he feels the heat deep within the condom, Colby giving a few more hard thrusts before fully collapsing on top of him, dropping the older's legs to wrap around his hips, ass falling to the pillow. The boy doesn't even bother to pull out, softening inside the Viper as he breathes hot, heavy pants across the defined chest beneath his cheek. Randy doesn't mind, though, too wrapped up in his own comedown, the absolute overload to his entire body, to even try to move. After several long moments, however, his breathing has evened out, sweat beginning to bring a chill over his body, and it seems the younger is faring about the same. Suddenly, Randy remembers the alcohol again, how much more Colby had consumed than he did, and he wiggles as hard as he can under the boy, thrusts his hips up sharply despite the sparks it lights up behind his eyes.

"Hey. Hey, kid, you gotta at least untie me. Wake up." he says loudly, and Colby jolts awake, sitting up so fast, it makes his head spin hard enough to drop him off the Viper, cock jerking out almost without the condom.

Randy curses softly, hoping the high flyer didn't nod back off, but then the tie is being tugged from his face, and he breathes a sigh of relief.

"'M sorry, Rand." Colby mutters, fingers fumbling around the ties at Randy's wrists a few times before he can get them undone. The Viper sits up, rubbing at his wrists, and the younger drops his gaze to the bed with a slurred, "'N asshole."

Randy laughs, taking the boy's face in his hands and kissing him, more tenderness than he intended tinged in it. He pulls back, still holding the high flyer's cheeks and looks into his eyes with a soft smile.

"You're not an asshole. You're tired. And fucking drunk." Randy tells the younger, pressing another kiss to his forehead this time and ruffling his already distressed hair. "Now sleep. I'll clean up."

The Viper isn't lying, Colby is pretty heavily intoxicated, and definitely exhausted, almost nodding off again already despite how hard he's trying to concentrate on Randy's voice. He finds himself nodding his head, dropping back to the bed and snatching blindly at a pillow, tugging it under his head with a sigh. Randy shakes his own head with an almost too-fond smile, thankful he hadn't consumed near as much a the young aerialist as he tugs the condom off the boy for him, throwing it away. He does have to be a bit more careful as he makes his way around the room clearing a path through their clothes, grabbing a rag from the bathroom, has to grab the wall for a moment to steady himself as he goes from the fluorescent brightness of the bathroom back into the bedroom, shutting the light off behind him. But, it's more exhaustion than inebriation that makes him drop back with a sigh to the bed, crawling to wipe the younger's abs off as he had his own. He shakes Colby as he cleans him, trying to rouse him from his short slumber, but the high flyer just groans, tries to turn away from him. Randy sighs again.

"Colby, hey, c'mon. You've gotta wake up, it's late. You need me to walk you back to your room? I can find out the number." the older suggests, struggling as he tries and fails to prop the boy up, get him back coherent.

"Noooo..." Colby groans out, face screwing into a scowl as he trails off into a whine. "Tired."

"I know, kid, and I'm trying to help you with that, but we've gotta get you back to your room. Right?" Randy reminds the high flyer, but Colby shakes his head, feels around for something on the bed and eventually snagging the sheet, pulling it up over him.

"'Mma sleep here." Colby informs the older, and Randy shoots him a puzzled look.

"You sure?" the Viper tries again tugging on Colby's shoulder, but the boy shrugs him off.

"'S fine. 'M tired's fuck." the younger slurs, and Randy sighs, Colby tacking on quietly, "Go t'sleep."

"Okay." Randy finally agrees, convinced it's the alcohol talking, but unsure of how to handle the situation. He mutters, more to himself, "But you're probably gonna try and kick my ass in the morning."

The Viper shoves himself off the bed, finds the boys pants so he can tug his phone out and shoot a text to Roman from Colby's phone informing him he's camping out in another room. The last thing he needs is the whole cavalry running around town thinking the kid has been kidnapped. Roman doesn't even seem confused, sending back a joke about his whereabouts in response that makes Randy wonder just how much the Samoan wrestler is actually aware about here, but the Viper discards the thoughts and the phone for the night, dropping it back to the boy's pants. When he crawls back into bed, he takes a moment to let his eyes trail over the sleeping high flyer before he shuts off the lamp. He tries to ignore the rush of emotion that hits him at the image, the thoughts that threaten to take over the longer he looks, and finally lets the room fall dark, dropping to the bed with yet another heaving sigh. He sends up a silent prayer that Colby doesn't completely hate him in the morning, blame him for their current predicament, but reaches out and tugs the boy closer to him, hugs him tight all the same. If there's even a chance he's going to lose this, Randy thinks before he nods off, face buried in Colby's still sex-tangled hair, he'll take what he can get.


	11. The Other Side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like such an epic asshole right now, lol. I totally thought this chapter had posted to this story, and my internet was down, so I wasn't able to check until today, and lo and behold, it hadn't posted! But I am here now, and it is here now, and hopefully you guys aren't too mad. The next chapter is about halfway done, so hopefully that will be up shortly, as well. Bear with me, everyone! Life can get more hectic than fiction sometimes, haha. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy!

_~In the beginning, I never thought it would be you_   
_When we were chillin', smiling in the photo booth_   
_But we got closer. Soon you were eating off my spoon_   
_And coming over, and we would talk all afternoon_

_And I know we ain't friends anymore_   
_If we walk down this road, we'll be lovers for sure~_

 

Colby wakes up to a vicious rush of nausea, the feeling assaulting him like a right hook to the jaw, and he practically leaps from the bed, stumbling quickly to the bathroom. He barely manages to hit his knees in front of the toilet before the vomiting starts, head pounding as the room tilts from one side to the other. He wants to sob as he grips the sides of the toilet bowl, cursing every shot and mixed drink he'd managed to down the night before as they all seem to come up at once now, his whole body wracked from the force of it. He lets out a whine as he slumps forward to rest his forehead against the seat, watching for his hair to fall down around his face and, inevitably, into the bowl. But, at the last second, he feels a large hand scoop it all off the back of his neck, and a cold, wet washcloth being placed there instead. And  _fuck_ , he thinks, unable to even stop the groan that slips out, because that means he's  _definitely_  not in his room. This is only confirmed when Randy's voice sounds off softly behind him.

"Hey Colbs, sit up a bit. Courtesy flush." the older offers, and Colby closes his eyes as he does what he's told. Too late to worry about it now, he figures.

Randy holds him close, rubbing his lower back and keeping the washcloth pressed softly to the back of his neck as he tries to keep the nausea at bay. It doesn't work, though, and a few minutes later, he's lurching forward again, Randy holding his hair back once more as he gets sick all over again. The Viper stays by him the entire time, much to his embarrassment, holding his hair and petting at his back, rubbing the cool water from the washcloth all along the back of neck, base of his skull, trying to ease the nausea. Colby tries desperately to remember what happened the night before even as he heaves, tries to place what events exactly left him  _here_ , in  _Randy's fucking room_ in the  _morning_ , but each memory he manages to find (fingers gripping Randy's arms in the bar, fingers securing ties around wrists,  _fingers in-_ ) makes his head spin even more, makes him even more sick than the time before.

Finally, it seems the high flyer has completely run out of anything to throw up, and he lets out a very undignified whine as he slumps backwards into Randy's arms. He closes his eyes to try and block out the visual of black and grey ink curling around his chest, thicker arms tucked under his own, but he can't ignore the lips at his ear, the soft voice speaking just to him, "Are you okay?"

"Define 'okay'." Colby says automatically, and he can't help his grin when Randy barks out a laugh, leaning back against the wall behind him but still keeping his arms tight around the boy.

"Alright, are you  _physically_  okay? Like, can you stand up? Can you walk?" the older questions, pulling an arm from under Colby's so he can turn his face toward his own.

"I think I can stand up." Colby replies softly, closing his eyes to let the room stop spinning. When it doesn't quite work, he continues, letting his eyes crack open, "I'll let you know about walking when we get there."

Colby ignores the almost endearing smile Randy shoots him before pressing a quick kiss to the boy's forehead, pushing himself to stand with an arm still tucked around the younger man for assistance. As annoyed as he is to be helped up, it's all Colby can do to not immediately go back down the second he gets his feet under him. He's glad he didn't open his mouth to object to the help, lest he's almost certain he would have wound up sick again. His eyes snap closed and he leans back into Randy's chest for support, letting the older wrap another arm around his chest again when he starts to lean.

"Easy there, I've got you." the Viper mutters, standing completely still so the high flyer can gain his bearings again before they move. He laughs a little bit, resting his forehead on Colby's shoulder for a moment as he asks, "I take it standing isn't the best idea, either?"

Colby just groans in response, eyes still closed to try and ease the feeling of the floor slipping from beneath his feet. Randy stands steady, moving his hands carefully to rest on the younger's biceps in an attempt to help him still himself and the room. He can feel the boy sway the slightest bit, and he lets his eyes scan the room for a way to ease Colby's suffering. FInally, his eyes land on the shower, and he smiles a bit, pressing a kiss to Colby's shoulder.

"You think a shower might help?" Randy question softly, adding before the younger can make a joke, "A  _real_  shower, nothing sexual."

The high flyer manages a slight laugh, and Randy physically relaxes a bit in relief.

"I'd agree to at least try a shower if I hadn't  _already_  been gone all night. Roman and Dean are probably ready to burn down the fucking city trying to find me." Colby replies, the last part trailing off into more of a murmuring to himself than a statement to the older man.

"Oh, I uh. I took care of that." Randy says somewhat sheepishly, and the younger spins around with wide eyes to face to Viper, regret instantly falling over his face as he nearly stumbles, squeezing his eyes shut and grabbing his head. Randy panics, holding the boy still and hurrying out, "Don't worry, I just texted Roman from your phone and told him you were sleeping somewhere else. That's all I said, I promise."

Colby carefully cracks an eye open, meeting Randy's worried expression.

"As me? What'd he say?" the younger asks.

"Just some crack about hoping you got off first." Randy responds almost without thinking. It does make him think of his queries from the night before, however, and he finds himself asking the high flyer, "How much does he know exactly, anyway?"

Colby huffs out a sigh, hot against Randy's chest as he drops his head to the same spot, muttering just loud enough for the older to catch, "Enough. More than I really wanted him to."

"Oh?" the older says in response, a round of questions swirling through his brain, but not wanting to press the younger too much just yet.

"I mean, it's not like it was my decision to tell him. He caught us fucking around at the arena the same night John opened his big goddamn mouth, and I couldn't exactly lie about it." Colby tries to explain, more guilt than exhasperation slipping into his tone. Still, he grumbles a low, "I told you fucking around there was a bad idea, but do you listen to me? Nooo, never. What do I know, right?"

Randy can't even stop the chuckle that comes out, Colby tilting his head back just enough to shoot the Viper a glare. Randy is unfazed, however, brushing the boy's hair back from where it's fallen into his face and resting his arms over tan shoulders, Colby's hands automatically sliding up to grip the inked forearms.

Pulling the high flyer slightly closer, Randy says more than asks, "So that's why you've been avoiding me like the plague."

"Not  _just_  that, but it'd be a lie to say that wasn't part of it." the younger begins, rubbing up and down the Viper's arms almost nervously. "I told you, it's a lot. It's just, it's John, and Roman, and  _you_ , and  _feelings_ , and now everything's  _different_ , and  _complicated_ , and...ugh."

Colby breaks off into a groan as his nausea begins to swirl with the room once more the more he works himself up. Dropping his forehead back to Randy's chest, he moans out, "I'm too hungover for this. I need to sit."

The older laughs again, easing the boy back to the floor and rubbing his back for a moment as Colby pulls his knees to his chest, lets his face rest between them.

"Alright. You sit here, and since your boys know you're not dead in an alley somewhere, I'll go ahead and start the shower so we can get you to...being somewhat functional again." Randy tells the high flyer, and Colby just nods, never picking his face up from his legs.

The second the water is running to mask the sound, Randy lets out a long, slow breath, eyes sweeping over Colby's hunched form as he finally allows himself to begin to process the night's events and where they've led him to now. So much has changed over the course of a single evening, and as much as Randy knows they have to discuss it, knows they need to figure out where they even stand after all of this, he's also unwilling just yet to shatter this moment, to throw away this comfort that they have with each other  _right now,_  until it becomes necessary. As steam begins to fill the room, Randy walks back over to his young companion, kneeling down to rest a careful hand on his shoulder again.

"Hey, water's good. You still feel sick, or you want to give it a shot?" the Viper asks, rubbing a bit down the boy's back just in case.

"I think I'm good. Can you help me up, though?" Colby questions, adding with a soft smile as he turns to meet blue eyes, "I trust my stomach, but not quite my legs yet."

"Yeah, I've got you. Come on." Randy replies with a smile of his own, standing up and offering large hands to the high flyer.

Colby takes a deep, steadying breath before accepting both hands into his own, using them to pull himself to his feet. Unfortunately, Randy pulls him up as much as he pulls himself, practically launching him upright and sending his head swirling once more, Colby stumbling a bit into Randy, knocking him back into the wall behind him. The Viper just laughs softly, taking hold of the boy's biceps to steady him again as Colby leans on him completely, groaning again against his chest.

"Careful now." Randy chuckles, and Colby's head snaps up, meeting his eyes with wide ones as the line registers in the high flyer's brain. The younger's face is crimson, and Randy grins a bit at the thought that it's not just from the heat filling the room. Pressing a quick kiss to Colby's forehead, Randy mutters, "I've got you."

Shifting his hands to Colby's hips, the older moves them as carefully as possible to the shower, Colby gripping tight to his arms for support. Randy is thankful yet again for the lavish suites the company comps for him as they step into the separated shower, glad he doesn't have to maneuver them over the edge of a bathtub with the boy in this condition. Once they make it in, Randy wraps an arm around the high flyer's waist so he can release a hand, shut the door behind them, before moving Colby under the spray first, letting the water ease at least a little bit of his suffering.

Colby tips his head back with a nearly content sigh, letting the water wash over his whole body in an attempt to at least partially quell the hangover. It only takes a moment, however, before he's almost whimpering, leaning forward into Randy again as the heat brings his dizziness and nausea back full force. He drops his hands to the Viper's hips as a means of grounding himself, Randy rubbing up and down his back slowly. The two of them remain this way for several long minutes, Colby's forehead pressed into the older's chest once more. Finally, he begins to get his bearings the slightest bit, letting out a slow breath as he pushes back to stand up a little more solid, hands still fixed on Randy's hips.

"You good?" Randy asks, tilting the boy's head back to meet his eyes.

"Mmn." Colby moans, blinking slowly up at the older a few times.

Randy chuckles softly, shaking his head as he offers, "Tilt your head back again if you can and I'll wash your hair for you."

Colby's eyes widen a bit at this, and he opens his mouth to object, but what comes out instead is, "Okay."

He closes his eyes again as his tilts his head back into the water, refuses to acknowledge whether he can't or won't face Randy when the Viper is being this sweet, this  _caring_. He tries to ignore the tenderness with which the older works the generous amount of hotel shampoo into his hair, rinses it out before repeating the motion with the conditioner. The careful fingers working their way across his scalp turns something in his stomach that has nothing to do with his hangover. It's almost too much when Randy grabs a too-soft washcloth, the scent of the Viper's own body wash nearly overwhelming him as it's run over both of their bodies, Randy seeming to take extra care as he scrubs Colby down. It makes the younger swallow thickly, cracking open his eyes to try and reassure himself that it's all in his head, that Randy isn't possibly being this cautious, isn't treating him with such delicate attention. Instead, he's met with an intense gaze, Randy's eyes full of nervousness as he visibly tries to do everything he can to ease Colby's suffering instead of prolong it. Colby turns his focus to the ceiling quickly, before Randy can catch him looking, but can't seem to stop himself from gripping Randy's hips even tighter, hoping the older will mistake it for his hangover getting worse. He's not prepared for this. He's not prepared for this  _at all_.

Thankfully, Randy backs them both under the spray a moment later, rinsing off the remaining body wash before turning off the shower altogether. Colby lets out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding as the shower door is opened, the tension seeming to dissipate into the rest of the room with the steam, thin out a bit. Randy helps him out of the shower, dries him off with the same level of affection with which he'd cleaned him, stopping before he gets to the two colored hair.

"You should probably do your hair, if you can. I don't want to make you too dizzy." the older says, offering him the towel with a smile.

Colby's so awed at this point, he nearly kisses him, barely stops himself before remembering how much vomiting he's been doing this morning, questioning instead, "Is there mouthwash, too?"

"There's an extra toothbrush and everything, if you want." Randy replies as Colby begins carefully toweling off his hair.

He pulls the towel back enough to look at Randy, telling him, "That'd be  _amazing_."

Randy nods, walking away to grab the requested items as the younger leans against the wall, dropping the towel next to him as the dizziness creeps back in. He has to brace himself against the sink the whole time he brushes his teeth, can barely keep his eyes open to finish the task. By the time he drags himself back to the bedroom, nearly stumbling as he hurries to the bed, Randy is already half dressed, the room looking much cleaner than he rememberd it from rushing past earlier in the morning. He drops to his back to the mattress, an arm falling over his eyes as he lets out a much louder groan than he intends to.

"I feel like I'm still drunk." he mumbles, and Randy barks out a laugh.

"I wouldn't be surprised." he responds, adding. "You were pretty far gone."

"Hell, I was pretty gone before you even showed up, and then we kept drinking..." Colby trails off, letting out a sigh as he mutters, "Half the fuckin' night's a blur."

He feels the bed dip as Randy comes to sit next to him, voice much closer as he asks, "Yea? What all  _do_  you remember?"

The high flyer huffs out another heavy breath as he pulls the arm from his face, pushes himself to slowly sit up. He rubs his forehead as he tries to draw up as much as he can, bits and pieces coming to him in almost a fog.

"I remember having, like, seven drinks before you even showed up, and I remember you popping up out of nowhere, and us having more drinks, and..." he begins, until one scene in particular flashes across his mind. Wide eyes snap to Randy as he adds in a panic, "Fuck, did I try to kiss you in the fucking bar? Tell me I'm making that up."

Randy laughs a bit, reassuring the boy, "It wasn't that obvious, and you didn't actually kiss me. Even if you had, the bar was emptying out and I doubt anyone was really even looking our way."

Still, Colby sighs, turning away again and rubbing his temples as he tries to remember more.

"I only kind of remember us getting up here. I think I nodded off for a second in the elevator, because most of that is gone. I remember you telling me to be careful." he says, a blush spreading over his face from their earlier exchange. He doesn't have to look to know Randy's smirking, knowing damn well what he did. Colby clears his throat before continuing, "I have a little bit of us making out, and getting naked, but the rest of the night is just a lot of flashes, and some of it feels like I could have dreamed it, so I don't know how reliable it is. The last thing I kind of have is...did I really blindfold you?"

He turns to look at Randy again, almost smirking himself at the blush spreading across the Viper's face.

"You did. And tied me up." the older confirms, adding with a grin, "You almost passed out and left me tied to the bed, too."

It's Colby's turn to blush now, blurting out a quick, "Fuck, I am so sorry. I am such an asshole."

The laugh Randy barks out seems to be a little much to the high flyer until he tells the boy, "I told you last night, it's fine, and you're not an asshole, you were just really fucking drunk. Which is half my fault, anyway, so I'm not upset about it. I figured you wouldn't remember that part, anyway, considering it was right before you declared you were sleeping here and told me to go to sleep, too."

"Of course I did." Colby mutters, shaking his head for a second before thinking better of it, having to close his eyes again to stop the spin. It's once his eyes are closed that the thought occurs to him, that he vocalizes as he looks to his companion, "Wait, if I tied you up, does that mean...? Did I...?"

"You topped me for once, kid. And I have to say, for as shitfaced as you were, you were pretty good at it." Randy informs him with an almost smug expression.

Colby feels like he's doing an awful lot of groaning today, but it doesn't stop him from doing it again as he flops back to the bed, grumbling, "Of all the fucking things to forget. God _dammit_."

He scrubs his hands over his face as he hears Randy laugh loud enough to make him wince at the twinge it brings to his headache. He pulls the hands away when he feels Randy suddenly hovering over him, looking up into intense blue eyes painted with a grin that's definitely smug now.

"If you're good, maybe we can have a repeat performance sometime." the Viper tells him, and Colby can't ignore the way it almost stops his breath.

Whatever breath he'd had is stolen a second later as Randy dips down to finally kiss him for the first time this morning, threading a hand carefully into the dark side of Colby's hair as he uses the other to prop himself up. Colby gives into the kiss entirely, all of the emotions from the morning slamming into the forefront the moment their lips meet. He nearly throws his arms around the older's neck, pulling him closer and arching up into him. Just as Randy slides his hands down to pet at the high flyer's sides, one of Colby's legs inching around the hips over him, the sound of his text message tone breaks through the room, making them both freeze mid-motion. Randy pulls away as slowly as he can, climbing off the bed to fish the boy's phone off his pants and hands it back to him before returning to dressing and packing up his things. Colby doesn't even sit up to read the text, holding his phone over his face and squinting against the light of the screen.

_**Rome** _   
_You gonna come pack your stuff now, or do you want us to leave it for you to grab later?_

Colby sighs, telling Randy, "I've got to go pack my stuff up. I think Roman and Dean are trying to head out."

He looks around the room as much as he can without moving at his clothes still strewn about, Randy moving to collect them for him. Colby takes them from the older, nose wrinkling as he gets them close enough to smell.

"Fuck, these smell like shit." he mutters, admitting sheepishly to his companion, "I didn't even shower after the show before I headed to the bar."

Randy smiles, walking back over to his bag as he says, "I should have something that should fit you well enough to get you back to you room."

"Thank you." Colby replies quietly, repeating the sentiment when the Viper hands him the clean clothing.

"It's no problem." Randy responds, heading to finish packing as Colby gets dressed.

The high flyer doesn't sit up to put the clothes on, either, just slides them on as carefully as he can still lying down. Randy laughs when he catches him, coming to sit on the bed next to him as he finishes up. He shoots the older a guilty look, turning away when he catches the same odd fondness in Randy's eyes that he's been seeing more and more of lately.

"I can walk back to your room with you just in case. I'm heading out, anyway, and you still seem kind of sick." Randy offers.

And Colby wishes he could turn the offer down, really needs more time to not only sort out his feelings about the whole fucking night, as well as the fact that he's not entirely sure he wants to tell his brothers the truth quite like this. Unfortunately, Randy's right, he's definitely still sick, and doesn't trust himself at all to be able to comfortably make it all the way down to his room alone, especially having to endure the elevator. He has to admit, too, as much as he hates it, it would be a little easier to rip the band-aid off if Randy's there for backup. He knows Dean's never going to let him live this one down, and if his friend can at least spread out the jokes, it probably won't be quite so harsh. He lets out a slow breath, nodding slowly and pushing himself to finally sit up.

"I'd appreciate it." Colby admits to the older, letting Randy help him stand.

It feels like it takes a week to get to the elevator, Colby nearly dragging himself down the hall, nausea still swirling in his stomach and the hallway still swirling before his eyes. He's grateful Randy is there, because he really is a big help, refusing to let the younger carry anything and insisting on walking closely behind him just in case. It stirs the same feeling in Colby that it has all morning, and when he grabs Randy's hand in the elevator, he tells himself it's to steady himself against the feeling of the car descending a few floors at such a fast pace. Randy's smile that he catches in the mirrored door tells him he made the right move, though, so he doesn't let go until they're part of the way down the hall to his room.

Once they reach the door, however, Colby freezes. He stares at it for several long moments, fidgting a bit as he begins to mentally prepare himself. He nearly jumps when Randy's voice sounds off quietly by his ear.

"Do you have a key, or do you need to let them know you're here?" the older questions, and Colby sighs softly, turning to grab his pants from the night before.

"I've got a key, I just...This is gonna be a shitshow." he finishes in a mumble barely loud enough for Randy to hear, hating the way Randy's face falls a bit.

Colby finally finds the key and turns back to the door, Randy taking the pants back. The high flyer takes a deep breath, thinking,  _here goes nothing_ , and slides it into the lock, opening the door when the light turns to green. Of course, Dean and Roman are already packed up and lounging on the bed when they walk in, so they both look up to greet him instantly. The shit-eating grin that spread over Roman's face is bad enough, but Dean's accompanying laugh is loud enough to nearly make him cry with the way it rocks his already pounding head.

"Goddammit, Dean, I'm hungover as shit, tone it the fuck down, Jesus." he groans, dropping to sit on the unoccupied bed.

"Oh, come on, how could I not? This is fucking hilarious!" Dean manages through his hysterics, his voice still too loud for Colby's liking. He drops his head into his hands as Dean continues, "I mean, we  _knew_  you were fucking around with  _someone_  on the roster, but  _come on_ , man, seriously? Fucking  _Randy Orton?_  How the hell did you think I was going to react?"

"He's  _right here_ , Dean." Colby says, nearly glaring at Dean as he continues to rub his head.

" _I know!_  That's what makes this shit  _so fucking funny!_ " Dean almost wheezes, doubled over on the bed in full force laughter. Colby rolls his eyes, shooting Randy an apologetic look. Dean slides himself to the edge of the bed, practically slapping a hand against the high flyer's back as he adds, "Really, though, good for you, finally getting laid, bro."

Colby's eyes snap open wide at the feeling and he jolts off the bed with a curse, nearly shoving Randy out of the way and practically running into the bathroom. He barely manages to get the door shut behind him as he collapses in front of the toilet, sick all over again. Vaguely, he hears Randy explaining how much he'd had to drink, Roman chastising Dean, but it's all distant, his heart pounding louder in his ears than their voices, his head throbbing harder with each heartbeat. It takes a lot longer than he thought it would to stop throwing up this time, and he's left panting by the end of it, tears in his eyes as he gets shakily to his feet and rinses his mouth out again. He can still hear Randy talking to his best friends outside the door, and he takes a moment to look at himself in the mirror, tries to figure out how so much could have changed in a matter of hours, and what the fuck he's even thinking with all of this. In the end, he shakes his head in an effort to clear it, no matter how dizzy it makes him, in an effort to shelve the thoughts for later, before opening the door and heading back into the main room.

The first thing he notices is that Randy is wandering around the room packing his things for him, Roman elbowing Dean to stop more snickering out of the corner of his eye. He grabs the Viper's arm as he goes to pass by, muttering a quick, "You really don't have to do that."

Randy just shrugs, stuffing a few things into a bag as he replies, "I just figured I'd help out a little bit."

"It's fine, though, seriously. I can pack my own bags." Colby tries to object, feels his face turning hot as his friends don't even pretend not to watch. He tries to hurry around, grab some of his clothes to bring to his gym bag, but it just makes the floor spin beneath him all over again, and damn if Randy doesn't catch his wobble as he nears.

"Yea, but I really don't mind. Just sit down. You're sick as fuck." the Viper instructs, and Colby huffs out a sigh, rolls his eyes, but does as he's told, anyway, sitting down at the head of his bed and propping himself up against the fake headboard.

"I'm not dying." the high flyer grumbles, completely unwilling to admit how much just sitting still for a moment helps as he folds his arms across his stomach carefully.

"Could've fooled me." Randy bites back, narrowing his eyes at the boy with a smirk even as he continues to make his way around the room packing things.

Dean can't even stifle his chuckling at this, Roman laughing a bit as well and tearing the other two from the task at hand for a moment as he clears his throat to hide it.

"Well, you two seem to have things handled here. We're gonna go ahead and get going. Get some food, get a workout in." the Samoan says, tacking on a grin as he adds, "I'm assuming you won't be meeting up with us for either one."

The high flyer lets out a loud groan in response, sliding down to lay sideways on the bed, still half folded up.

"I figured as much." Roman replies, still laughing a bit at his younger teammate as he grabs his gym bag. "We'll leave you to it, then. Get yourself some water or something and we'll catch you at the arena. Don't stay here too long, though. Checkout is in, like, half an hour."

"That should be enough time for a quickie, right? I hear semen is  _great_  for hangovers." Dean quips, Roman elbowing him in the side even as he tries not to laugh along.

Colby just groans again, burying his face in the pillow he's come to rest on. Voice muffled in the fabric, he grinds out, "Goooo onnn, get out. I need quiet."

"You need more than that." Randy mutters under his breath. To Roman, he says, "It's cool. I've got him from here. I'll make sure he gets to Raw in one piece."

"Alright. Don't be afraid to get rough with him if you have to." Roman responds, smirk fixed in place on his face.

"Oh, I'm sure he can handle that." Dean adds, shit-eating grin of his own to match his lover's.

"Go!" Colby nearly snaps, sitting up enough to hurl a pillow at his friend.

"We're goin', we're goin'." Dean says, shrugging his bag up further on his shoulder. Turning to Randy, he says, "Good to see you, man. I'm sure we'll be seeing you around  _a lot_  more."

Colby rolls his eyes as he drops back to the bed, grumbling insults about his friends in the process. They're already out the door, but Dean still laughs once more, already continuing his jokes about the Viper even as the door clicks shut behind them. The high flyer sighs, burying his face back in the pillow beneath him while Randy goes about finishing up packing for him. This was in no way how he'd originally planned to spend the morning, he thinks. Though, to be fair, he reminds himself, nothing involving Randy Orton ever seems to go as planned. The man is completely unpredictable sometimes, throwing him for a loop every time he finally thinks he's got things figured out. Like now, he thinks turning his face away from the fabric beneath it and cracking his eyes open against the harsh light to watch the Viper zip his suitcase, sliding it carefully back to its wheels on the floor. Now he  _knows_  Randy has caught feelings, and he's not entirely sure how to handle it. This  _definitely_  wasn't what he'd planned, not at all. He's not even sure yet how  _he_  feels, how in the fuck is he supposed to address the way Randy does? Thankfully, the older takes the reins from him once again, pulling Colby out of his thoughts as he sits down next to the boy, rests an almost too gentle hand on his hip. Colby tilts his head to face the Viper a bit better as the older begins to finally speak.

"Well, that went okay." Randy says, and Colby coughs out a laugh.

"Better than I thought it would, that's for damn sure." Colby mutters in response, adding a bit more clearly, "Sorry about Dean, though."

"Nah, it's fine. I was kind of expecting it." the Viper replies. Then, lower, "I was kind of expecting worse."

"Probably a good idea with Dean. You never know." Colby says, Randy barking out a laugh that makes him wince.

"Shit, sorry." the older instantly apologizes, the hand on the high flyer's hip almost instinctively beginning to pet at the fabric beneath it. "You feeling any better yet? Need anything?"

"I need more sleep, but that's not gonna happen." the boy grumbles, draping an arm across his eyes.

"Nope, sorry about that. I'll buy you breakfast, though." Randy offers, but Colby shakes his head, carefully.

"Mmm. No. No food. Tylenol, though, maybe. And something to drink that doesn't have any more alcohol in it." the younger replies. He takes a deep breath to settle his stomach as he adds, "Provided I can keep it down."

"That's certainly doable." Randy tells him, hand on Colby's hip never stilling in its movements as an almost fond smile works its way across his face.

A comfortable silence falls over them for a few long minutes, Colby almost unable to speak from his nausea. He doesn't even want to think about moving, but he knows he's going to have to get up sooner rather than later, knows that check out time is looming ever closer, and the longer the silence stretches between them, the closer they get to having to talk. About  _everything_. And Colby is definitely not trying to get into  _that_  conversation right now. Randy seems to want to, though, opening his mouth to break the quiet first. Colby cuts him off quickly instead, sitting up much faster than he needs to right now, trying not to let it show as he speaks.

"Comfortable as this bed is, we should probably be heading out soon, yea? If they call up here and that phone rings, I'm actually going to die. And I kinda don't want to show up to the arena still looking like shit." the high flyer says with a half grin, pointedly ignoring the way Randy's face sort of falls at being interrupted.

"Yea, for sure." the Viper replies instead, standing to grab his own bags where he'd set them at the foot of the younger's bed. Turning to Colby, he smiles, throwing his gym bag over his shoulder as he tells the boy, "For the record, though, you don't look like shit."

"Ugh, I  _feel_  like shit." Colby responds, grabbing the lightest of his bags first.

"I mean, you definitely look like  _that_." Randy jokes, and Colby shoots him a half glare. Walking closer, almost into Colby's personal space, he adds, "But seriously, you look great. Like most of the rest of the time."

Instantly, Colby finds himself fighting a blush, turning away to continue gathering his things. When he goes to grab his heavier bag, Randy beats him to it, adding it to the bags already on his arm. The high flyer almost objects, but stops just short of it when he catches sight of the older's face, the completely open expression painted across it. It makes him swallow whatever he was going to say, catches him off guard even further than he already has been this morning. Randy genuinely wants to do all of this for him, wants to make things easier, and as much as he knows he'd normally fucking  _hate_  to let anyone practically spoil him like this, for some reason when it comes from the older, he discovers he kind of  _likes_  it. He figures it's probably useless to argue at this point, anyway, the Viper seemingly hell-bent on not letting him take care of himself whether he actually likes it or not. He lets out a slow breath, relinquishing his control with it, and hands over his smaller bag when Randy reaches for it.

Grabbing his suitcase handle, he lets Randy lead the way to the door and hold it open for him. He knows he'd normally feel at least a little bit more uncomfortable than he does by the time they get to the older's much nicer rental car, Randy opening the door to that for him as well and taking  _all_  of his bags this time, but for some reason all of the doting that's been forced upon him this morning feels... _nice._  It's almost  _relaxing_  to give up control for a little bit, despite the way it would usually make him anxious, nervous. He's shocked, but he's finding he doesn't really mind letting Randy take care of him the slightest bit. He's so relaxed, in fact, that when the older reaches over, taking his hand in a much larger one and grips it loosely without ever looking away from the road, Colby doesn't even flinch. If anything, it eases his nausea the slightest bit.

They make it through a quick drive thru and to the arena without incident, and head to the arena, Randy only releasing the younger's hand so that he can give the boy his water bottle, share the spare Tylenol he keeps in the glove box. They've ridden mostly in silence, Colby's eyes closed so he doesn't have to actually see the road moving around them, but they can both feel the tension of the unspoken words hanging between them. It's Randy who finally gets the chance to take advantage of their lack of noise, clearing his throat just loud enough to get the boy's attention, and Colby cracks his eyes open almost nervously, barely turning his head toward the Viper.

"So, uh. Since you're already breaking all your other rules with me...we work together, you've stayed the night, now your friends know...what do you think about finally taking me up on that date?" Randy asks, and Colby can hear the nerves seeping into his voice despite his best attempts to hide it.

Sitting up just a little bit straighter, but not releasing the older's hand, he lets out almost a sigh before saying, "Y'know what? Sure. Okay. Why not."

Randy's so stunned, he's  _sure_  he imagined the response, and he turns fully toward the younger as he asks with wide eyes, "Wait, really?"

"Shit, not if you kill us!" Colby snaps, squeezing the hand he's holding and pointing at the road frantically.

"Fuck, sorry." the Viper instantly apologizes, eyes back on the road before repeating, "But, seriously, really? You will?"

"Yea, really. You're right, I've broken almost every other rule I have, and it's not like Roman and Dean aren't going to give me shit regardless. So, yea. I will go on one date with you, Randy. But!" the younger interjects before Randy can express his full excitement. "If this isn't one of the best dates I've ever been on in my  _life_ , then we go back to how things have been going, and you don't bring it up again. Got it? You said it yourself, no need to fuck up a good thing, and if it's a fucked up date, there's no reason we should change the way things have been going."

"Alright, you're on. I was already planning to go out of my way a little bit, but if you want to make this a challenge, we can make this a challenge." Randy replies with an almost wicked grin, glancing between Colby and the road. "I guarantee you, this will be one of the best, if not  _the_  best, date that you have  _ever_  been on, Colby Lopez. You wait and see."

"Alright. I will." Colby fires back with a matching grin, relaxing back into his seat with an air of confidence.

Internally, however, he can feel his own nerves setting in. As always seems to be the case with Randy, he wonders just what he's gotten himself into now. This entire morning has already been so wildly far out of his normal comfort zone, and now Randy's planning to do more? Try harder? Colby's not sure if he can really handle all that, especially with the way his own emotions seem to be wrapping themselves in a knot right now. Thankfully, he doesn't have to think about it for very long, because the next thing he knows, the older is pulling the vehicle around to the back of the arena, parking as far away from the fences as he possibly can. When the Viper finally takes his hand back to put the car into park, Colby closes his eyes and turns away, letting out a sigh of something akin to relief as Randy steps out of his door. Following the course of the rest of the morning, Colby finds his own car door opened for him once again, trunk already popped for him to get his bags. Thankfully, Randy lets him get most of his own bags this time, still carrying the heaviest one for him and sticking close as they enter the building. They've barely gotten inside, however, when something occurs to the high flyer. He pulls to a stop, reaching out and grabbing the older's arm to stop him, as well, turning toward him and lowering his voice.

"Hey, look. Since Dean and Roman already know, and they're not going to eat you alive, I guess it's cool if you come by our locker room every once in a while. But this  _cannot_  be an all the time thing, and you can't go around talking about it. Not just because it's not anyone else's business, but also because I'm not trying to piss off my best friends with this whole thing. They're friendly, but they're not  _that_  friendly, yknow?" Colby tries to explain, hoping he's not coming off as harsh as he thinks he is.

"Yea?" Randy replies, an almost eager smile on his face, and Colby can feel the relief wash over him like a bucket of water. "Well, if you're sure they won't mind. I won't wear out my welcome, scout's honor."

"You were never a scout." Colby says with a laugh, turning and beginning to walk again.

"I was!" the Viper objects. "I was pretty good, too. Had a lot of badges."

"Bullshit." Colby fires back, their banter continuing until they've reached the absolute bowels of the arena, pulling to a stop again once they're outside the door. When Randy reaches to open it for the younger, however, Colby stops him, asking sheepishly, "Do you mind if I head in alone for now? Everything's fine, I'll text you after, I just...Dean's going to be bad enough as it is, and I'd rather not give him even more ammo before I really have a chance to explain myself...if you know what I mean."

"No, it's fine." Randy tells him, handing the last bag back to him. He offers the younger a smile as he adds, "I wanted to swing by catering and grab something to eat, anyway."

"Yea, sorry about that. You totally could have gotten food." Colby responds, ducking his head a little bit in embarassment.

"I told you, it's fine." Randy repeats, turning the boy's face back to him with a crooked finger under his chin. He slides his hand up to cup the high flyer's cheek, dipping down to press a kiss to his lips that Colby leans into for a moment, both of them thankful that the Shield locker room is always so hidden. Grinning as he pulls away, he says to the younger, voice barely above a whisper, "I had a  _great_  time last night, Colbs. Really looking forward to that date."

Colby leans back a bit with wide eyes as Randy stands up straight again, as if he just remembered what he'd agreed to. Randy almost laughs, but stops himself, doesn't want to blow his chances this fast. Then, he's grabbing his suitcases again, heading back toward the freight elevator they'd taken to get this far, leaving the younger at his room to deal with his friends and hangover alone for the rest of the day.

 

**III**

 

Randy is practically humming as he makes his way through catering, grabbing a few things he can eat back in his locker room without making too much of a mess with a huge grin plastered across his face. If he were a girl, he's sure he'd be skipping with how light he feels right now, the elation almost coursing through him. He cannot believe how well everything seems to be turning out, the other Shield boys not completely hating him, and now he's finally got his date? He's almost glad he ran shin-first into a table on the way to the catering table, else he thinks he'd have to pinch himself here soon to remind himself he's not dreaming. He's already planning the date in his head as he walks back toward his locker room, completely lost in his own thoughts, when a hand on his shoulder and a loud voice beside him makes him jump so hard, he almost drops all of his food, a muffin and an orange rolling unmercifully off his plate as he struggles not to lose his water bottle.

"What's got you in such a great mood?" John asks, adding as his friend struggles to adjust his food, "And for the love of God, please don't say Colby."

"Well then, I won't say anything." Randy replies, looking around at the few people going about their business near his locker room door before tacking on, "Especially out here."

John huffs out a sigh that makes Randy roll his eyes, leading the way through the door Cena holds open for him. Leave it to his best friend to try and ruin what had started out as a perfectly great morning, he thinks, letting John shut the door as he dives into his food in lieu of addressing the older's apparent problem. John's not letting him get away with, it though, walking over to lean against the table Randy's using, not even bothering to pull up a chair and sit with his friend. Randy barely restrains himself from rolling his eyes again once John starts speaking.

"So what's the kid done to put you in such fantastic spirits?" John inquires again, sarcasm practically dripping from his voice.

"I thought you didn't care. 'Date the kid, but don't come crying to me when it goes up in flames', am I close?" Randy fires back, only slightly looking up from his food.

"I never said I didn't care. Hell, I probably care too damn much about all of this, and that's half the problem." the older replies honestly, pushing himself off of the edge of the table to pace the room a bit.

"Yea, and why is that?" Randy asks, turning completely away from the table now, crossing one leg over the other and folding his arms over his chest. He's almost glaring as he says, "I mean, you care enough that you went to try and talk Colby out of being around me. Not that it worked."

John stops, sending an almost guilty look his friend's way as he wonders aloud, "He told you about that?"

"Yea, he did. Why the fuck wouldn't he? For that matter, why the fuck didn't  _you_?" Randy snaps, standing up and approaching the older.

"It's not like I didn't think he would. Hell, it's not like he listened to a word I had to say." the older says, crossing his own arms now, and Randy scoffs.

"Yea, you're right. He didn't. Honestly, whatever you were planning, it completely backfired. He even finally agreed to let me take him on a date soon." the Viper declares, a certain kind of smugness in his tone.

" _Of course_  he did. Because what the fuck do I know, right?" John says, almost to himself.

"Yea, John. He did. Again,  _why wouldn't he_?" Randy snarls at the older man. He can't help it, rage growing as he thinks about the situation more, the bottled up feelings he's held since their last conversation bubbling to the surface the longer he remains in John's presence. "Hell, I really kind of want to know why you went behind my back to say something like that to begin with. You're my  _best friend_ , John. Aren't you supposed to want me to be happy?"

"I do want that, Randy." John tries to defend himself, expression growing irritated, but Randy's irritated as hell, too, and he's definitely not having it, cutting the other man off.

"Then  _why_ , John? Why the fuck do you keep trying everything in your power short of getting him fired to get in the middle of this? What, is it Colby? Do you have something against  _him_  or something?" Randy questions, getting more into Cena's personal space, glare settling in comfortably on his face.

"I've got nothing against your little Boy Wonder, trust me. It's everything else I've got the problem with." John tells him, squaring his shoulders and staring the younger down.

"Everything else?" Randy repeats, and John lets out an exasperated sigh.

"Dammit, Randy, don't act like you don't know  _exactly_  what the fuck I'm talking about. Hunter? Cody? The two of you almost losing your  _careers_ , and even more than that? I already know you didn't forget. You said as much yourself. So don't sit here and try to play dumb with me, because it's not going to work." Cena nearly growls, expression turned deadly serious. When Randy doesn't immediately interject, he continues, "Yea, that's what I thought. I'm fucking serious, Rand. Do you not understand at all that I'm looking out for your best interests here?  _Both_  of you. Because you're an idiot if you don't know how all of this is going to play out. Say you do date the kid. Say you're in this happy, perfect little fucking relationship. Then what? Huh? What happens the  _second_  Hunter or Steph catches wind of it? Because you know it's going to be bad. You thought Hunter was harsh on you and Cody? You have  _no idea_  the kind of shit he's going to unleash if he catches you a second time disregarding his rules. And I bet you won't say shit to him or his friends about it until it's too late, will you?"

"I'm gonna tell him." Randy grinds out, eyes narrowing further as he adds, "It's not like I haven't already tried."

John barks out a laugh, nearly rolling his eyes.

"Of course that's where you decide to cut in. Alright. I'll humor you. So you do tell him, and the Shield boys. And we'll pretend they won't take it as terribly as we both know they will. Are you prepared to deal with the consequences of this when the shit hits the fan? Are  _they_? Because Lord knows, you didn't want to deal with the shit Hunter and Steph dealt to you then! What the fuck makes you think you're willing to deal with it now? Because Colby's  _different_  somehow? Cody was your best friend in the  _world_ , means  _so much_  to you, and you didn't want to go through shit for him-" Cena rants, and Randy lets him, fuming quietly until the older man begins to compare the situation. Then, he's had enough, cutting John off harshly.

"That's not fucking fair and you fucking  _know_  it. You're goddamn right, Cody means a hell of a lot to me, and I was not willing to put him through everything Hunter was willing to throw at us and risk losing him forever." Randy practically spits. He can't believe John is going here, of all places, just to make a point. His friend has known every circumstance that made him rethink the relationship with Cody when everything had first gone down. For the older to be throwing it in his face as if he'd thrown everything away for the hell of it is insulting, to say the least, and makes him more livid than anything else. Both in reference to the past, as well as the situation at hand, Randy looks away as he says softly, "Cody didn't fucking deserve all that."

"And Colby does?" John questions immediately, voice still harsh and arms still crossed, and Randy's head snaps up to face him again, glare set back into place.

"Hell no! You know damn well that's not what I'm saying. No one deserves the kind of shit Hunter does to people, least of all any of us." the Viper growls, breaking away from his staredown with his companion to pace around the room himself, expel some of the energy that's threatening to consume him. Half under his breath, he mutters, "Fuck Hunter  _and_  his outdated,  _invasive_ -ass rules."

"Then why the hell do you even want to try this shit again?! What do you really think you're going to accomplish? Some kind of happily-ever-after with this kid?" John nearly screams, and Randy's  _done_.

He turns on his heel, storming back over toward Cena, pulling to a stop before letting the older have it.

"I may not know what the outcome of this may be," he snarls at John, poking an angry finger into the much larger chest in front of him as he says, "But  _you_  are the  _last_  person who's going to judge me for trying to be happy, in  _whatever_  relationship I want to be in. You've got  _no room_  to  _ever_  get self-righteous with me, got that?"

John huffs out an angry sigh as he shoves Randy away a bit, staring him down as he tells him, "Yknow what, whatever man. Do whatever the fuck you want. Lord knows you're going to anyway."

"Yea, I will, actually." Randy says angrily, stepping back into the older's space.

"Good. Do it. But seriously, don't even bring it up to me, because I am  _done_ , Randy. I can't deal with this shit anymore." John says decisively, pushing his friend away with slightly less force this time.

"Oh yea? Then  _don't_." Randy growls, and when he shoves John back, it's not delicate at all.

"What?" John immediately questions in complete disbelief.

"You heard me. Don't fucking deal with it, then. In fact, you don't have to deal with me  _at all_." Randy informs the older, John shaking his head a bit incredulously and stepping back toward his companion.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Cena asks, Randy glaring at him with fists clenched at his sides.

"You know exactly what it means,  _John_. If you really just can't deal with me, and you have such a problem with my relationship that you can't even talk to me like a civilized human being, then you don't have to deal with me  _at all_." the Viper elaborates, voice deadly cold. Then, he shoves John again, more force behind it this time, as he demands, "Now get the  _fuck_  out of here, and don't fucking come back."

"Excuse me?" John exclaims at the words, still kind of in shock at how quickly this whole thing had escalated.

The laugh Randy lets out is anything but humorous, every bit of the asshole he is in the ring coming out as he says, "Oh, come on, John! I know you're not hard of hearing! So are you just stupid? Is that it? Fine, let me break it down for you. Go fuck yourself, John. I don't want to see you around here ever again. From here on out, I'm not your fucking friend. Don't even fucking  _look_  at me if you can avoid it, are we clear?"

When John opens his mouth to respond, Randy refuses to let him, grabbing him by the bicep and shoving him toward the door with all the force he can manage.

"Now get. The fuck.  _Out_  of here. And don't  _ever_  come back." the Viper snaps, folding his arms across his chest with a note of finality.

John looks for a moment as if he's going to fight back, maybe even apologize, and Randy's not sure if he wants the older to. He's equally stunned at how fast the argument had gotten out of hand, but he has to admit, he's honestly exhausted dealing with the rebuttals of someone who is supposed to be one of his closest friends. He needs John's support in all of this, not his constant string of doubts. But, if John can't possibly be there for him, then whatever, he figures, he's more than welcome to leave and not come back. And that, apparently, is the older's choice, John's face hardening as he yanks open the locker room door.

"Fine. Fuck you, too, Randy." John spits, loud enough that Randy knows if anyone is in the general vicinity of the door, they heard it.

Then, John storms out of the room, slamming the door so hard behind him that the handle rattles.

All at once, Randy can't contain the rush of emotion that washes over him, his best friend of nearly a decade actually walking out of his life too much for him to handle. He grabs the water bottle he'd been drinking, hurling it at the door as hard as he can. The way the liquid splashes all over the door and the wall when the bottle makes contact isn't quite satisfying enough, however, and he finds himself kicking a chair across the room as well, watching it smash into three pieces that are barely still attached before exhaling a massive breath, dropping to sit on the floor, knees almost to his chest. As he scrubs his hands over his face, trying desperately to take everything from the morning to now in, he lets out a harsh sigh, his thoughts from earlier ringing loud and clear through his head:  _Leave it to John Cena to ruin what had started as a perfectly good morning._  It's with that thought that he finally decides,  _good riddance_.


End file.
